Anger Management
by audriuska12
Summary: Taylor Hebert had to deal with anger ever since the summer camp - both her own and others'. First day back after winter break, her life changed forever. My first Worm fanfic, crossposted from Spacebattles. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**January 9th, 2011 - Sunday  
Evening**

Brockton Bay was an _angry_ city.

Taylor had known it for some time - the gang violence, the failing economy, the politics, all of it came from somewhere, and the hate fed itself in a cycle of violence. But knowing it intellectually, in a corner of her mind that has so often been ignored in favor of dealing with the hell that was Winslow, was one thing. Feeling it while walking down the street, quite another. The sudden flash of anger of the driver that got cut off. The simmering hate flowing from a window through which a shouting couple could be heard. The aimless anger of thugs who have yet to find their next victim.

And her own anger, crystal clear where she had once tried to hide it even from herself.

It all made her feel more alive than ever before.

Six days since she last attended Winslow. Six days since she last slept or ate. Six days since her name and face hit the news, only for her to be rechristened "Eris." Not the name she'd have picked for herself, then again, not the power she'd have hoped for. Walking around the city had been nerve-wracking at first, but when every picture they had available had her wearing glasses and with her long black curls loose, ditching the glasses and putting the hair in a ponytail was apparently enough to get by. She'd never look at Dad's old comic books quite the same way again.

 _If she'd ever get the chance to._

Taylor's musings were rudely interrupted as she passed an alley when someone grabbed her by the arm and dragged her in. She stared at the gleaming knife in front of her face, reddened by rust and the sun's last light.

"Wallet and phone, _now!_ " yelled a vaguely Asian-looking man, backed by another pair of goons. _A lot of people for a mugging,_ Taylor thought through a faint buzzing sensation at the back of her mind.

"Bitch, did you hear me? Wallet and phone, NOW!" he repeated, his and his companions' anger flaring at her seemingly slow reactions. The knife jerked up and down, the motion slowing as Taylor's blood roared.

She grabbed his wrist before he could even blink, and _squeezed_. She heard the crunching sounds when the look of shock was just starting to form on his face. Taking his feet out from under him with a sweep of a foot, she stepped forward and punched another of the goons in the stomach while he was halfway through shouting "OH SHI-", and he slammed into a wall just as his buddy reached the ground, choking for breath. Both the simmering anger and the recent indignation of the thugs disappeared, presumably giving way to fear. The last thug turned and ran, and with only her own anger fueling her by now - and not even directed at him - Taylor decided that chasing him was not worth the effort. Her head clearing, she took a deep breath before turning to the incapacitated thugs.

"Either of you have a cell phone? Because you look like you'll need an ambulance."

"Unghh..."/"Ggghhhkkk..."

Realizing that neither of them was going to answer, she went through the former knife-wielder's pockets. Luckily enough, she found the cellphone in the second pocket she checked. She dialed 911.

 _"911, what is your emergency?"_

"There's a couple of injured would-be muggers in the alleyway near the 14th. Both seem to be breathing, one has a broken arm, the other took a hit to the spine."

 _"We're sending an ambulance your way, Miss. Please remain-"_

Taylor hung up, and turned to leave, before the growling of her stomach made her stop. What passed for her "disguise" had gotten her through the streets just fine, but she didn't exactly have a way to buy food... and even if she didn't feel as hungry as she should have after six days, she knew the clock was ticking. Running straight out of school left her with no money for that as well...

By the time the ambulance's sirens started ringing in the alley, both Taylor and the two muggers' wallets were long gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**January 10th, 2011 - Monday  
Morning**

The bell above the door rang as Taylor stepped into the small grocery store. The man behind the counter looked up at her, clearly suspicious of a teenager not in school at this kind of hour. Her power didn't get much from him, however.

 _Maybe I should've waited for the afternoon..._

Her stomach rumbled at that, communicating its opinion of that idea, the buzz from yesterday faintly whispering again. Shaking her head, she went along the shelves, trying to compromise between getting enough food to last her and having to carry it around for however long that'll be. She felt the shopkeeper's eyes on her the whole time. After making her choices, she went up to the counter, nervous sweat making her keenly aware of how long it's been since she'd last had a shower, and the shopkeeper's growing irritation.

And then she saw her own face on the newspaper stand. _"WINSLOW'S CARRIE STILL AT LARGE"_. At least it wasn't the Brockton Daily, only a smaller magazine that, at a glance, seemed to cater to cape fans. After a moment's hesitation, she picked it up, making sure to not point the front page at the man, who was looking at her with ever more distrustful eyes. At least it didn't seem like he recognized her. She approached him to pay for her purchases.

"Weird time to be going out shopping. Shouldn't you be at school?" he asked, while the register displayed the total.

"Dad's sick and can't go to the hospital. Didn't think it's a good idea to leave him alone for that long," Taylor answered in a slightly irritated tone due to the gradually worsening buzzing, after a moment's hesitation she hoped the man would attribute to inattentiveness, handing over the cash.

"Hmph. Alright. Here's your change." He counted it out, almost painfully slowly. Strange, he didn't seem new to the place...

As Taylor collected her change and grabbed the magazine with her left hand, the police car pulling up next to the store answered that question. The two officers walking through the door stopped her from leaving.

"Miss, please stay right here," one of them, a tall, black man with a scar on his lip ordered in a firm voice, grabbing her right forearm. She dropped her bag, the dull impact not sounding like it broke anything.

Taylor frantically looked from him to his colleague, a white man who seemed to have a noticeable amount of fat added on top of his muscles, with a scraggly black beard that looked more like it survived an occassional shaving than being deliberately grown.

"This girl here comes in stinking like a hobo with jitters, and I'm to guess she's paying with her own money? No, officers, I'm sure she's a Merchant and stole it!" the shopkeeper cut in, apparently working himself into getting angrier with every word. The first officer looked at him, then back to Taylor, who was growing increasingly frustrated by _that incessant buzzing_...

"Well then, Miss. If you'd explain where-" he cut off, his eyes widening in realization.

 _He recognized my face._

Taylor reacted, shoving the man into his colleague and dashing for the door. They stumbled and swore, the accompanying spike of anger causing her to break the door's hinges when slamming it open, startling a freckled blonde with bottle-green eyes. She ran down the street in a panic, the few people out at this hour clearing the way, each one's annoyance at her behaviour being like a sip of fresh water. After no signs of pursuit for three blocks, she slowed down to a walking pace and tried to get her breathing under control, her mind clearing of the adrenaline rush.

And realized her bag was still at the store, the food she spent most of her cash on out of reach.

"Fuck!" she swore loudly, drawing disapproving looks from a couple walking down the sidewalk across the street. It was then that she realized her fingers were still dug into the now severely crumpled magazine. It seemed careless to read it so close to where she'd just had to run away from, but after another hour's wandering in silence she felt confident enough to lean against a wall out of sight of the street and start reading. It was called the "Cape Gazette", and had the look of a publication that was sold in many places and taken seriously in none.

~o~o~o~

 _"Sightings of the parahuman Taylor Hebert, officially named 'Eris' by the PRT, have been sporadic but constant since the Winslow Massacre. A known loner and troublemaker, classmates claim Miss Hebert's antisocial behaviour reached its peak when unknown students attempted to prank her."_

Taylor had to make sure her newfound strength did not destroy the magazine. For all that it was bullshit, it was the first source of news she's had her hands on this week. Her bullies remaining unnamed and their slander believed was doing her self-control no favors, however.

 _"Witnesses claim that after finding her locker filled with unspecified materials, Eris violently attacked a nearby student and used her power during the altercation."_

Unspecified materials? Unspecified materials!? Whoever they got their story from was clearly too _disgusted_ to specify them, not that anyone cared Sophia tried to shove her in with them! Using her power... Taylor still could not remember the moment she did that clearly. She only remembered her head cracking against the side of the locker, her glasses shattering. As the world went dark and _spun_ , she felt electrified... then reflexively opened her healthy-again eyes to a scene of utter pandemonium.

 _"The students observing the scene were driven berserk by a Master effect, turning on each other in a fit of violence. Of the thirty affected, six died on the scene and two more before Panacea's arrival. The renowned healer has been unable to help three victims."_

Taylor felt sickness rising in her stomach, barely managing to not throw up, helped significantly by being on an empty stomach. _Eight people..._ She spent a few minutes trying to get herself under control, before looking at the magazine for the last time.

 _"Eris fled during the scene and is still at large. Her father, Daniel Hebert, head of hiring for the DWU, could not be reached for comment."_

The last sentence was an ice spike to the heart. She had been so distracted by trying to avoid pursuit, she had managed to keep her mind off her father, except a couple times at the early hours of the night, when there simply weren't people around to look out for.

What was he thinking of her now?


	3. Chapter 3

**January 10th, 2011 - Monday  
Evening**

Taylor's mind was once again focused on more practical matters. A roof above her head, food, a change of clothes (or at least a shower. A _week_...) Having almost no cash - again - made shopping for food complicated, and buying clothes impossible, but perhaps she could find a place to stay and not have to risk wandering around in daylight when she'd be so much easier to recognize?

It was this line of thinking that led to her walking a slow circle around a mostly boarded-up warehouse in a part of the Docks long abandoned by honest citizens. "Mostly" here meaning that one window on the second floor seemed to have no boards covering the missing glass. The bottom edge would've been several feet too high even for her beanstalk frame before her powers, but with her newfound strength she was sure she could make it. The first couple of attempts, however, fell a foot short. Irritated, she started turning away from it in search of something else, before the surge of energy and the hunger pangs fading brought her to a stop. _Oh, right. Anger._

Taking a few quick breaths, Taylor sank into memories. _Her mother's flute._ She could see Emma's face clear as day, laughing at her while feigning innocence. Remembered the stench of the dumpster where she found the flute. What was left it. Her blood boiled, her mind buzzed, and her muscles screamed to _move_. So she did. A single jump had her grabbing the bottom of the window with ease and pulling herself up and inside in one smooth motion. Her shoes dusturbed far less dust than she'd expected them to, and there was no trace of shattered glass on it - wherever the window had gone, it was either not smashed in or cleaned up. Examining the rest of the room, she found herself in an office. A check of the drawers revealed several rings of spare keys, one of which unlocked the door. The rest of the first floor revealed another pair of offices, a restroom, a shower (both unfortunately out of water), and what seemed to be an archive room, covered in a significantly thicker layer of dust than the previous rooms. A glance around the ground floor where the goods used to be stored confirmed that it was also coated thickly, meaning the previous rooms had been cleaned at some point after the warehouse's abandonment. A fellow squatter, perhaps? Whoever they had been, they were apparently long gone by now, so Taylor went to sleep in one of the offices that didn't have a missing window.

~o~o~o~

 **Jan 11th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Morning**

Taylor woke with a rumbling stomach, and a faint buzzing sensation at the back of her mind. She focused on it, and it grew stronger... but now that she wasn't trying to push it aside to deal with people right next to her, she realized the sensation was neither distracting nor unpleasant, it just... was. Experimentally, she tried to get it to quiet down. To her great surprise, it disappeared from her mind completely. A few repetitions established that she could make it come and go as she pleased. _It must be tied to my powers... the shopkeeper!_ _It was getting stronger while he was getting angrier!_

The explanation for his behaviour was welcome, but her thoughts quickly returned to the magazine and its contents. _If I have a power that makes people angry, then that explains why they..._ _why they did what they did. I have to get this under control._ But she couldn't learn to control her power by speculation alone, and even if she found a place to stay, she still needed food and clothes, and for those, money. She thought back to the thugs in the alley, and decided to go patrolling. Maybe saving a few innocents from muggings (and she had a good power for that, she realized - _Violent crime? Just follow the anger_ ) would get people to second-guess the "Winslow Massacre".

Decision made, Taylor walked up to the missing window, checked outside for observers, and, finding none, jumped down. Bending her knees a little on the landing, she was pleasantly surprised by how gentle it felt. Then she made her way towards the residential areas, keeping an eye on what her power was telling her. After seeing the overlapping gang tags, she decided to look for Merchants - they were the most likely to commit their crimes in broad daylight, and their territory had the least police presence, with the people least likely to recognize her. It only took her an hour to wander into the first mugging, two strung-out goons holding a woman at knifepoint. One was getting much more hands-on than necessary.

"HELP!" the woman screamed. Her frantic eyes locked on Taylor at that point, desperate, hopeful. Taylor stepped in.

"Let her go", she declared in the most commanding voice she could muster. The thugs turned her way, their anger spiking. Taylor kicked the frisky one with little care for sportsmanship, and he went down squealing. His companion bellowed in anger and charged Taylor. She swung her fist into his wrist, breaking it and making him drop the knife. Anger gone from the sense of her power and fear replacing it on his face, he turned to run.

Then Taylor reached for the buzzing sensation and _pushed_ it towards him. It _flowed_ into him, his anger spiked again, rejuvenating her, and he turned around and started punching her in a frenzy, heedless of how he was injuring even his still-intact arm while doing about as much damage to her as a rolled-up newspaper.

Taylor reached for the buzzing again, this time pulling it back into herself. The thug's rage disappeared again, and after a moment's paralysis of confusion he fled the scene again. This time, Taylor let him.

"...Thank you, thank you!" the woman cried out, relieved.

"I'm glad to help. Are you alright?" Taylor asked, while pinning the downed thug to the ground with her boot. He whimpered.

"Yes, I am. What are you going to do with him?"

"Unless he's as dumb as he looks, not gonna hurt him more", Taylor answered, noticing the bulge of a wallet in one of the man's pockets. She pulled it out and walked away, leaving the woman to stare slack-jawed at the "hero" she'd just been saved by.

Safe back at her warehouse, Taylor counted the first $50 she'd made as the city's newest cape. _If anyone told child me that this would be my cape career..._


	4. Chapter 4

**January 14th, 2011 - Friday  
Evening**

Over the next several days, Taylor had successfully stopped eight muggings - even with her anger sense being almost cheating for finding them, the ease made her keenly aware of just how bad things were getting in the Bay. She managed to shop in a couple of grocery stores without incident now that she figured out how not to anger people just by loitering near them. Working up the anger to jump up to her warehouse's window was getting easier each time. After managing to clean herself off in the abandoned showers with bottled water (after confirming that her power made the cold bearable so long as she kept herself angry enough and away from windows) Taylor felt hopeful for the first time since Winslow.

That's why following a trail of anger to find an E88 initiation felt almost overdue.

The scene was straight out of the stories that have been going around ever since the Empire became a major gang. A would-be lieutenant would earn his position by killing a minority, tonight's victims apparently being a black couple that found itself at the wrong place and worst possible time. Taylor approached quietly, the Nazis too distracted by their victims to notice her.

One unpowered mook, the future lieutenant, brandishing a knife. Three more, standing at a distance to the sides and behind the victims with lowered guns, denying their escape. Alabaster and Crusader, standing back, observing the proceedings, there to judge his worth. She remembered them from the news and PHO - one would reset any damage taken every few seconds, the other controlled ghostlike minions. She was hesitant about picking a fight with two infamous capes, but she realized she couldn't just walk away and leave their victims to die. _The gunmen first - I'm not sure how bulletproof I am. Then the knife wielder so the civilians can escape. Then hold the capes off until they're gone._

Decision made, Taylor charged in. The gunman facing her turned away from the show at the motion and cried out just as she took his comrade with a downward blow to the gun arm's shoulder, and her target collapsed with a scream. All attention on her, Taylor reached for her power and _pushed_ it into the unpowered gang members, them forgetting all about their victims and charging her. Meeting the charge in a zig-zag, she managed to avoid most of the bullets sent her way, one going through the muscle in her upper arm. Her anger spiked with the pain, and she disarmed them enthusiastically. The lieutenant's forearm broke in the melee, bone sticking out, but it took seconds to make sure all four mooks were no threat. The couple took off at that, but a ghostly form knocked them to the ground with its spear. Taylor turned to the Empire capes, the burning where she'd been shot already fading.

"That was a ridiculously stupid thing to do, heeb", Alabaster remarked.

She was spared the effort of having to come up with a response to that by a spike of anger from Crusader and a flickering in her peripheral vision. Taylor leapt forward, a ghost's spear parting the air where she'd stood. More of its kin were appearing next to Crusader, seeming to almost walk out of him. She knew she only had to hold the capes off until the victims escaped, but a glance confirmed the one holding the victims on the ground at spearpoint was still there, apparently not hurting them but not letting them move away. _Have to deal with Crusader, then._

An attempt to head directly for him failed as the ghosts put together their spears in a phalanx formation, and Taylor could not charge through without getting skewered like a boar. She couldn't run around them either - she wasn't fast enough with only four other people still conscious, two of them too terrified to be angry. An experimental _push_ of her power caused Crusader to send several ghosts charging her way, but they were replaced by others. _I need a weapon._

Taylor sent more rage towards the two capes, causing Alabaster to run straight at her, and energizing her further. Between that and focusing on what would have happened to the couple had she not interrupted, Taylor managed to rip out a lamppost with little difficulty, and give it a few swings. It was unwieldy, which was bad. It went through Crusader's ghosts without meeting any resistance or bothering them in the slightest, which was worse. A close swing that had her hands clip one of the ghosts sent it flying, however. Grinning, she tried to take the fight to the ghosts, but even with her power coursing through her their teamwork won out, forcing her to back off when a spear tore the gunshot wound on her arm wider. She grew more frustrated, realizing she couldn't fight through barehanded. _There has to be something..._

Her thinking was interrupted by Alabaster's knife appearing in her field of vision, which she'd dodged, receiving a shallow cut on the cheek. _Wait, that's it!_

She charged forward, punching Alabaster in the face. He hit the ground along with a shower of teeth and flickered, but before he could get up, Taylor grabbed him by the leg.

"WHAT THE-" he started shouting, before having the wind knocked out of him by impact with a Crusader ghost. She turned to the Nazi himself, seeing him flinch, and charged, flailing ghosts out of her way with a screaming, furious Alabaster. Crusader turned to run, but she reached out with her anger and he turned around again, eyes wide in fury. Then she put him down with a swing of Alabaster. He flew several feet through the air and landed with a crunch, staying down and groaning faintly. Alabaster flickered to pristine another time.

"Did you really just-" Taylor interrupted him by slamming him into the ground. A couple of seconds later, he flickered again.

"You can't keep-" Taylor slammed him again. His anger was sustaining her, though she found her own fading - venting the last ten days on someone who could take it was very therapeutic, temporarily at least. Remembering why she was in the situation to begin with, she looked around for the couple, only to see them scurrying away from the scene. _Well, no thanks received tonight. At least they're safe._ However, Alabaster had a point - she couldn't just leave him and walk off, lest he try following her to her warehouse. She was reasonably certain she could tell if he tried by his anger, but that was no excuse to be stupid.

Looking around, she saw nothing suitable to restrain him in immediate sight, so she walked over to an alleyway, slamming Alabaster into the ground every few seconds to keep him behaving. She found a large dumpster, accompanied by two smaller ones for recycling. They didn't seem to be anywhere close to full, so after a moment's consideration she shoved Alabaster into the large one, slammed the lid on him, then grabbed the one labeled "Glass" and set it on top of it. _That should keep him for a while._

Then Taylor took off running, taking care not immediately move in the direction of her warehouse.


	5. Chapter 5

**January 15th, 2011 - Saturday  
Morning**

Taylor decided to keep her head down after her encounter with Crusader and Alabaster, not wanting the risk of a surprise attack on her warehouse. She decided to go shopping with her spoils from the other encounters (sadly, the cape fight hadn't left her with a chance to loot.) Her first priority was some new clothes - having just the ones on her back made keeping clean a problem, and her shirt, sweater and jacket all had matching holes torn into them during last night's events. She'd have to go clothes shopping... and maybe buy at least a pillow and blanket, as the minor Brute power she had when not boosted by anger wasn't nearly enough to make sleeping on a bare floor comfortable. On her way out, she noticed a black widow spider hiding in one of the corners. A swift kick put an end to it, and she added bug spray to her mental shopping list.

The market hadn't been as crowded yet as it would be later in the day, so Taylor had little difficulty picking up her purchases. On her way out, she passed a newspaper stand. Looking at it revealed no papers or magazines displaying her face on the front page, which she counted as a win. Maybe if she kept out of the papers long enough, she wouldn't have to be nervous about passersby recognizing her - that only happened a couple of times a few days after the Winslow event hit the news, but anything making her life easier was welcome at this point.

Walking out of the market just as the real rush of shoppers was making its way in, she felt a minor spike of anger from across the street. She looked over to see a tall, muscular white man eyeing her warily. She did her best not to look like she was looking at him, letting her eyes slide past him towards other people in the street, but as she started moving again, she felt him cross to her side of the street and start following at a distance. Taylor kept moving straight at an even pace, not turning towards the warehouse while he could see her. She was surprised by his behaviour - she'd have expected a civilian to call the PRT and get clear. It made no sense, unless... _not a civilian? He could fit in just fine with the Empire, at least._

The fact the man apparently wasn't calling anyone on his phone and simply following her from just far enough to not lose track further supported her guess. _Must be trying to follow me back to my hideout, then. Not gonna happen._ She'd have just ran and left him in the dust, but that would draw attention she really didn't want. So instead she slowed her pace a bit when approaching a stoplight, and crossed the street just as the green light went on - and at the distance he was following, the man couldn't get to her side before the light turned red without running. Allowing herself a smile, Taylor slipped away.

After a few hours' wandering to make sure she didn't pick up a new tail, Taylor returned to her warehouse. As she settled in to eat, she saw a gigantic spider perched on top of a table, not even trying to hide. It was shaped like a black widow, but several times bigger, and the hourglass marking on it was a bright golden yellow. As she stared at it, her mind bouncing between _"Kill this thing!"_ and _"That is NOT a normal spider!"_ , she heard a buzzing coming from near the window. A cloud of insects flowed in, and started buzzing. It took a second for Taylor to realize they were _mimicking speech_.

 _ **"Hello, Eris. Or would you prefer Taylor? Or Miss Hebert?"** _they chittered, the sound making Taylor's skin crawl. The discomfort quickly took second place to realizing whoever was controlling them knew exactly who she was. Were they going to try to coerce her by threatening her father? Realizing the bugs were waiting for an answer, Taylor took a deep breath.

"...Eris. Who are you and what do you want?" she answered after a moment's hesitation, deciding this clearly counted as cape business and acutely aware of how the bug spray was both out of reach and likely woefully insufficient.

 _ **"Call me Webweaver. I'm here to give you a friendly warning."**_ The swarm did not sound friendly at all.

"And what kind of warning would that be?" Taylor answered, already hearing the _"We have your father"_ in her head and trying to figure out how to reach the window without running through the thick of the swarm.

 ** _"The Empire knows about this warehouse. Unless you think you can take Hookwolf, Cricket and Stormtiger, you'd be best off getting out of there."_**

Taylor froze, a brief moment of relief about Dad not being threatened quickly replaced by trepidation. She was about to take the warning and and grab her things, when suspicion learned after far too many pranks at Winslow reasserted itself.

"And how do I know that you're telling the truth? You could just be trying to lure me out into the open. In fact, why _would_ you want to help me?"

 _ **"If I meant you harm, I could just sneak my bugs into the place in your sleep. You only noticed the widow this morning because I let you. As for my reasons for helping... let's say I'm looking for local talent. All I ask for in return for helping - this time - is one civil conversation. Do decide quickly - they'll be here in five minutes. Two, if they give up on the quiet approach."**_

So this _was_ a recruitment attempt. Taylor felt almost relieved to know Webweaver's motive - or at least, what they claimed it to be.

"Let's say I believe you. How do you intend to help me? I don't think a few bugs will do much good against those three."

 _ **"Follow the fireflies. My associate will distract them, you just need to get out of there."**_

Taylor briefly considered the possibility of Webweaver's "associate" shooting her in the back, but as she was checking her bag for any visible dangerous bugs she felt three angry presences approach the front door of the warehouse, one breaking off to the side to head towards the open window. Any doubt to their identities was cleared up by the ear-splitting grinding of metal on metal, and Hookwolf came through the front door in all his razor-sharp glory. Behind him was a woman with a cage mask. As Taylor ducked back into the room, she heard a monotone "There she is!" before realizing that jumping out a window in front of an aerokinetic was not necessarily a bright idea. The cloud of bugs lit up in a handful of fireflies, arranged in a "3." Then a "2."

Stormtiger's anger spiked as he moved forward, then turned backwards. Taylor jumped out on the "1" and hit the ground, turning to look. He was fighting a man in what looked like a blue version of military fatigues, face hidden behind a gas mask, gloves and boots black with glowing lines along the edges. He had what appeared to be a shotgun in his hands, and a pull of the trigger caused Stormtiger to double over as if kicked in the stomach. The fireflies buzzing around her head prompted Taylor to turn from the scene and run with them, following the glowing signs.

The bugs led her through a twisting path that didn't pass any people, even if there would be few people to pass in these parts of the Docks in the afternoon, until one warehouse's door was highlighted in fireflies. After a quick look around, she went inside, finding a woman standing seemingly alone, wearing what had to be the most ostentatious outfit she'd ever seen on a cape. Boots, stockings, shirt, jacket, gloves - all fitting as if they were woven onto her, and all made of what seemed to be silk in varying shades of gold. She was wearing a matching helmet, small enough in size that Taylor safely assumed the woman kept her hair short under it. Not an inch of skin was visible.

"Hello, Eris. Let's have a chat, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**January 15th, 2011 - Saturday  
Afternoon**

"Alright, then. Webweaver, was it?" Taylor asked, while scanning the warehouse with both her eyes and powers. She saw no people, but a plenty of insects of various kinds, all of them dangerous.

"Yes. I must admit, things got _interesting_ even faster than I expected. Brockton Bay's reputation is very well-deserved," Webweaver answered, a hint of a chuckle in her voice.

"You've mentioned looking for local talent before. Where did you come from?"

"I'd advise against asking capes questions so closely tied to their secret identities. A lot of them won't appreciate it." Taylor sensed a brief flash of irritation from the woman, but it faded almost as quickly as it was noticed. "Though seeing as doing my research on you was made far easier by you not having one, I'll even the scales a bit. I'm from Chicago, the rest of my team will decide whether to tell you about themselves on their own. Should you join up, of course."

"Doing your research?" Taylor asked suspiciously. _Just where did this woman poke around?  
_  
"Oh, don't look at me like that. Why would I not learn as much as I could about the locals before moving in? Particularly ones I'm looking to recruit?" She sounded almost... incredulous? But Taylor noticed something more important.

"Then you don't all come from the same place? How does it work that you're a team, then?"

"While none of us are new, we haven't worked together before. We're a new cell, a couple of us aren't even in town yet."

 _Cell. Part of a greater whole.  
_  
"So you work for somebody else, then? Who's in charge?" Taylor asked. Even if she considered joining what she was increasingly sure was a group of villains, she would not trust some distant, shadowy boss.

"We don't work _for_ somebody else, we _are_ a part of the Elite. I suspect you've heard of us," Webweaver deadpanned. While mildly offended, Taylor had to admit the largest villain organization in the States would be known to anyone not living under a rock. Web continued talking. "Which does bring me to the point of this meeting - you're one of two locals that I'd like to have on board. The offer is simple - money, shelter, protection. In return, you help us remove the other gangs from the city, help fight heroes, and should the worst happen, rescue any of us that are captured. We will not ask you to kill, nor do we intend to escalate that far against heroes ourselves - however, I won't pretend it cannot become necessary when dealing with the other gangs. We _do_ intend for our presence to be an improvement for this city."

"Improve the city? Hardly a believable goal for a villain group." Taylor just knew something about this was too good to be true.

"You're skeptical, but ask yourself - what's the long-term business in a city where cape fights happen every week and the common people struggle to get by? This is an investment, and we will expect returns."

Taylor considered this for a moment, but decided not to take someone who didn't even pause at being called a villain at her word.

"And if I refuse the offer?"

"Then we go our separate ways. We do nothing to you - unless you act against us or spread what I've told you around. Don't expect us to do you any favors again, however. I'll take it you're not interested, then?"

"No." Taylor's voice was firm. She would _not_ become a villain. Webweaver sighed, irritated.

"Very well then. When you change your mind, get in touch," she said, while fireflies carried a card to Taylor. On it was a phone number. She put it in her jacket's inner pocket, then turned to leave, eyes and ears peeled for any suspicious actions by the bugs. She walked out into the daylight unmolested. A motion in the corner of her eye drew her attention, and she saw the blue-clad man who had distracted Stormtiger. He was casually walking down from a nearby rooftop - on thin air. He raised a hand in a wave, she shook her head. He shrugged and reached the ground, turning towards the warehouse. Taylor went off in search of a new place to set up in. She'd have to go somewhere away from both the Empire and Webweaver - being evicted from what she thought of as a safe place once was bad enough, and Weaver had already shown she's perfectly comfortable spying on her.

~o~o~o~

Taylor quickly eliminated the Boat Graveyard as a possibility. Both the gangs and the PRT kept an eye on it due to the tendency of new capes to test their powers on shipwrecks (and new Tinkers to come looking for salvage), which combined with the squatter problem meant she'd get found faster than the last time. She'd stand out a bit too much in ABB territory, and Empire territory was out for obvious reasons. She hadn't pissed off the Merchants yet - _probably_ \- but drawing attention to herself when some junkies got ideas and she had to fend them off seemed inevitable.

She supposed she could try to find another abandoned warehouse, but even in Brockton Bay there were only so many of those that were truly abandoned. Lost in thought, she snapped out of it when she found herself walking down a familiar street. The Dockworker's Association was visible in the distance, seemingly lifeless on a Saturday afternoon. Her breath hitched at the reminder of her dad. Was he working himself to death again until his colleagues dragged him out of the building, like he did after Mom? Or was the Ferry no longer enough of a distraction from all he had to deal with?

 _Wait a second. The Ferry!  
_  
The old ferry station had been abandoned for years, and despite her Dad's best efforts, it was unlikely that anyone would be using it any time soon. New destination in mind, Taylor took off.

~o~o~o~

Taylor hopped the fence and the "KEEP OUT" signs with ease. They weren't nearly as high as the jump she'd had to clear to get into her warehouse, more there for legal reasons than to keep out anyone seriously trying to get in. The missing windows were the most direct access point possible. A solid kick got her into the manager's office easily, the wood rotten after years unattended in humid air, and she sat down to think about the day's events and finish her interrupted meal. The card Webveawer gave her was a leaden weight in her pocket.


	7. Chapter 7

**January 18th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Afternoon  
**  
Taylor's new hideout was closer to the market than her previous one, which made shopping more convenient. However, the smell of seawater was starting to get on her nerves, and spending several days avoiding attention meant her cash was running low again, which is why she was once again wandering around Merchant territory looking for muggings to turn around. Her mouth was covered by a blue scarf she'd picked up at the market for this exact purpose. Unfortunately, a weekday afternoon wasn't the most rewarding time in this regard, and after finding only one mugger who appeared to have been rather unlucky in his chosen career even before running into her, if his near-empty wallet was any indication.

Disappointed, she turned back towards the ferry station when the sun started approaching the horizon, and was nearly at the edge when her anger sense picked up on someone jumping on a rooftop a couple buildings over. If that wasn't a cape, and a villain at that, Taylor didn't know who it could be. They jumped to the next rooftop, and Taylor moved towards one of the building's corners, ducking around it when the mystery cape approached the edge. They paused, presumably to look around, and jumped again, now moving away from her. Taylor let out the breath she'd been holding, and kept on her way. _Close call... though what cape would be jumping rooftops in Merchant territory?_

She got back to the ferry station without further incident, sprayed some bug spray around the office where she kept her things, then decided to explore the station a bit while the air in the office cleared. Her search turned up several nonfunctional restrooms, a couple more office rooms, one of which was marked as a manager's office, and a veritable mountain of dust and cobwebs. The only object of interest was a door labeled "SECURITY", which had been locked (like the other offices) behind a steel door (unlike the other offices.) She briefly considered knocking the door down like she did the others, before dismissing the idea. She had been lucky enough to not have anyone _unintentionally_ stumble into the old warehouse, but it was more likely that someone would accidentally wander into the station and hiding herself and her things behind a locked door in case that happens might stop her from being spotted by someone who wasn't expecting to find anyone inside. Mind made up, she headed towards the manager's office, where ripping out a locked drawer revealed a set of keys, one of them with a "SECURITY" tag. Grabbing it, she made her way back to the locked door.

The key worked just fine, and Taylor stepped into the security room. One end of it had a chair, a table, and a wall of empty monitors, linked to cameras that haven't been in use for years. The other had lockers, and keys hanging on the wall nearby. Matching keys to lockers revealed a few security uniforms and helmets - none in her size - and several batons. Taylor gave one a few experimental swings. It fit her hand reasonably well - she could learn to use this.

 _Ribs crunching when she punched the Merchant. Alabaster's teeth flying. Crusader limp on the ground._

Scratch that. She should learn to use this - beating people down with enhanced strength would go wrong for her eventually, and even if people she fought weren't any kind of innocents she did not want _(more)_ blood on her hands.

She remembered the scene of pandemonium she saw after pushing a disoriented Sophia away. _Eight people, and I do not even know their names._ With that thought, Taylor knew what she had to do tomorrow.

~o~o~o~

 **January 19th, 2011 - Wednesday**  
 **Afternoon**

Taylor stepped out of the bus, facing the library. Nobody recognized her yet, and there were no other Winslow students riding the bus with her, so that was one major hurdle passed. She entered the building, taking off her scarf, and felt her nervousness spike. There were few enough people around at this time, so she assumed she'd be safe if nobody recognized her at the entrance. The buzzing at the back of her mind was back, but she pushed it down with a thought and made her way to the upper floor, where the computers were. Picking one at the corner where people walking in wouldn't see her face and she'd hear anyone approaching, she started up a search for the Winslow Incident. She had to go through a couple of articles before she could find the list of victims.

 _Ann Parker. Denise Clark. Jason Bailey. Kathryn Smith. Lilian Wilson. Madison Clements. Ruby Hughes. William Reed.  
_  
Most of them were just bystanders. Participants in an incident or two, but never acting on their own. Taylor couldn't imagine seeing them dead and knowing it was on her. Madison... Taylor didn't know how to feel. She was one of the Trio, true, but Taylor kept telling herself she didn't deserve death either, but the thoughts rang hollow. She forced down the buzzing trying to reemerge in her mind. Committing the names to memory, Taylor decided to check PHO for what the people were saying about her... even if she strongly suspected she knew already. Two threads came up.

The first was a general discussion thread. People calling for blood as expected - perhaps the most charitable comment she noticed in a quick skim was some guy claiming he's "surprised it took her so long to snap - most people would've gone crazy way faster." That had apparently sparked a flame war due to "disrespecting Eris's victims."

The second thread was titled "Eris vs Alabaster/Crusader" and had poor cellphone footage of her fighting Crusader with Alabaster, then stuffing the latter in the dumpster. The comments had a few Empire supporters posturing and threatening (and receiving bans for that), and a lot more positive responses to her. _Guess I'm liked better than the Nazis, at least. Also explains why they were so mad at me, that had to sting their reputation._

Research done, Taylor closed the browser and left the library. She spent the trip back to the ferry station trying to find her guilt over Madison's death.


	8. Chapter 8

**January 20th, 2011 - Thursday  
Evening  
**  
Taylor had spent several hours today practicing with the salvaged batons. The swings were getting very intuitive now, but she wasn't certain just how much damage they'd do to a person, especially when her own strength would vary throughout a fight. Try as she might, she couldn't deny that the best way to learn that was live practice. Setting out towards Merchant territory again, she kept the baton hidden in her jacket just in case, but the few passersby paid her little mind. The night was almost suspiciously quiet, however, and she decided that if she didn't find any action for two more blocks she'd turn back.

She found it.

Halfway to her declared limit, she felt angry people off to the side. As she approached the crowd through a dark alley, she found dozens of people armed with knives and a handful with guns rallied in front of a black man in a blue outfit. The man's mouth was rotten, both in the literal and metaphorical senses. _Skidmark.  
_  
"-these racist cumstains who's in charge here! ARE YOU WITH ME, MOTHERFUCKERS?" he shouted before his rallied followers. A disjointed chorus of "YEAH!"'s was the response, even the most lucid ones sounding at least slightly inebriated. Then they all started moving in one direction.

 _He's moving to take a piece of Empire territory._ A part of Taylor wanted to just leave them to suffer the consequences of their stupidity, but something whispered in the back of her mind. The energizing feeling of her power coursing through her. _I've only been around a few angry people at a time. What would a full-blown battle be like?  
_  
Warring with temptation as the Merchants marched towards Empire territory, Taylor realized that a full-blown battle in the streets at this hour would likely catch civilians in the crossfire. That was enough to tip the scales, and she followed, careful to keep out of sight, but unconcerned with losing them - they were making far, far too much noise for that to happen. The first half-hour was uneventful, only freshly-broken windows and upturned trashcans marking the Merchants' passage.

Another group of angry people showing up at the periphery of her senses and gunshots ringing out was her cue to move in.

Every step towards the fight had her moving faster, the stress of weeks away from home and worries about her father fading. She felt _alive_ , and broke out in a sprint, feet hitting the ground in rhythm to the wardrum beat of her heart. Her baton snapped into her hand, then into a slowly turning Skidmark's elbow. First target down, Taylor surveyed the battleground looking for the next.

The several dozen Merchants were fighting a dozen skinheads and another dozen of armored ghosts. Realizing who that meant, Taylor spotted her target just as he looked towards her. They locked eyes.

"You again!?" Crusader called out, furious. Remembering their last fight, Taylor looked for Alabaster, but did not find him. _Have to get to him before he surrounds himself in ghosts, then._

He only managed to create two ghosts and recall another two back to his side before Taylor got close enough, and being faster than last time let her knock all four down and bring her baton to his arm, but it broke against his armor. Shrugging, she discarded it and shoved him several feet, and he fell to the ground. She jumped on top of him and punched him in the head, the helmet making a dull thump against the sidewalk. As she was winding up another punch, she felt a stinging in her side. Looking in that direction, she saw an Empire thug aiming a pistol at her. Another shot hit her shoulder. The distraction was enough for Crusader's ghosts to close in again, so Taylor darted sideways, then charged forward and drove her fist into his stomach. He dropped the gun and collapsed on the ground, heaving. Taylor kicked the gun away and turned back to Crusader. He was staggering off the ground, six ghosts now standing defensively between them. Taylor used the pause to check where she'd been shot, only to find the bullets were stuck halfway in her flesh. She pulled them out and dropped them, the stinging replaced by a mild itch. Going after Crusader again seemed impractical - there were already nearly a dozen people on the ground, dead or unconscious, no longer feeding her power. She wouldn't break through his still-multiplying ghosts without somebody to use as a weapon, so she decided to go after the unpowered thugs. Most of the ones with guns had been shot already, so she decided to hit the Merchants - they still had a numbers advantage even with Crusader's ghosts, and she did not want either side to be able to call this battle a victory. She ducked beneath a baseball bat, wrenching the owner's wrist. Another Merchant trying to stab her received a punch to the opposite shoulder, screaming and collapsing.

"Everyone, get out of here!" Crusader shouted, voice pained. The skinheads looked at each other, then started falling back, a few grabbing their downed brothers in arms and trying to drag them away from the fighting. The Merchants backed off as well, showing no such camaraderie. The anger in the air was fading with every moment, her power with it. Taylor considered restarting the fight with her power, but the sight of bodies on the ground stopped her. _Too many died tonight already._ She turned back toward the ferry station, her enjoyment of the afterglow of adrenaline only slightly marred by the loss of the baton. _Dumb idea to hit a guy in armor with it, anyway._


	9. Chapter 9

**January 21st, 2011 - Friday  
Afternoon  
**  
Taylor decided she'd be better off avoiding fights for at least a few days after managing to offend two major gangs in one night. Charging into the fight that recklessly was a bad idea in retrospect - her power made it feel so _good_ , but she didn't even want to think what might have happened to her if the Empire defense had been led by, say, Hookwolf. Thinking back on the fight and the bodies left on the ground, she came to a realization. She'd been lucky enough when interrupting muggings before they got too far, but what if the next victim she found was already wounded by the time she showed up? What if she herself went too far in a fight? If she had to call an ambulance, she'd have to rely on someone else on the scene having a phone she could find quickly enough. That could cost someone their life. As much as she hated the idea, she'd have to get a phone of her own. That meant a trip to the Boardwalk.

The Boardwalk was as crowded as she'd expected it to be on a Friday afternoon, but this worked to her advantage. People were too occupied window shopping or chatting with their friends to pay much attention to her, even the enforcers' eyes did not linger on her. She picked out an old Nokia phone - cheap, simple, and, according to the cashier, usable for self-defense in a pinch. She doubted the cashier accounted for superhuman strength, though. As she left and turned back toward the station, she did not notice a would-be pickpocket stop and stare, realizing just who he'd nearly picked for a mark, nor did she notice him trail her all the way to the station's fence.

~o~o~o~

 **January 21st, 2011 - Friday  
Late Evening  
**  
Taylor was pulled back from the edge of sleep by anger at the edge of her senses. A whole crowd of people, one of them a blazing beacon of fury unlike anyone she'd sensed before. _Who the hell is it this time?_ Creeping out of the security room to look out a window, she saw a crowd of Merchants rallied around the bastard child of a tank and a jeep, Squealer leaning out one window of it. She was the angry one, though Taylor had no idea why it would be her and not Skidmark, who seemed to be missing. A whirring sound drew Taylor's attention back to the mechanical monstrosity, and she saw what was unquestionably a minigun emerge from the thing's hood.

Pointed at the ferry station. The weapon started spinning up.

Taylor hit the floor as a hail of bullets started taking chunks out of the building - fortunately enough, the thing's accuracy was terrible, and for every bullet that even punched into the lobby she was in there were three gunshots. One shot punched a hole in the floor a couple of feet to her left, but the shards of floor tile that hit her were the only damage caused by the time the gun started clicking empty, Squealer's furious wailing becoming audible over it.

"YOUR FAULT HE DIED, YOU BITCH! HE'S GONE AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

 _Skidmark's dead? I couldn't have..._ Taylor was certain she hadn't hit the man that hard. He couldn't have died to her strikes, it was impossible!

The Merchants' cannon fodder charging forward by the dozens was more important right now, however. Taylor felt empowered by their anger, but if she fought them she'd eventually take down too many to be able to escape Squealer's vehicle. She'd have to get past them instead, but they weren't angry enough for her to be confident Squealer wouldn't pull out another Tinkertech gun to shoot her with. _Unless...  
_  
Taylor didn't want to use her anger power on such a scale again. What happened at Winslow was bad enough. _But it's me or them now._ She reached into her rage, the buzzing coming to her mind with but a thought.

 _More.  
_  
It grew louder with every breath, like a wasp nest being kicked. When half the Merchants were across the fence, she _pushed_ it at them.

They howled as one, and charged her.

Then one of them, in his rush, shoved another out of his way.

The one shoved retaliated and knocked him into another.

Seconds later, the Merchants were no longer focused on her, clubbling each other with their weapons - even the ones not meant for clubbing. Taylor _moved_ , crossing the distance in a second and being next to Squealer's vehicle in two. But that took her out of the range of the furious crowd, and she slowed down. The pile of scrap accelerated in reverse, headed straight for her, before doing a sudden, skidding turn to face her. Taylor ran, before she heard the minigun spinning up again. She dove for cover in an alleyway, but the bullets did not seem to be deterred by only one building - but it threw off the frenzied cape's aim enough that instead of being torn apart by the barrage, Taylor got hit by one bullet right below her left rib. She howled in pain and fury, but managed to keep on her feet. At least when the gun clicked empty again, Squealer found herself unable to squeeze her vehicle into the alleyway. Taylor took that as the stroke of fortune it was, and ran to the other side and turned a corner to make sure Squealer didn't have a line of fire if she reloaded faster than the last time. Hearing the pile of scrap roar its way down the street, doubtlessly to come back through the nearest path it would fit, Taylor cursed and tried to think of a way to outrun a car on foot. She came across a manhole cover. Lifting it made her wince at the pain and blood coming from the gunshot wound, but she climbed down the ladder, pulling the cover over on the way down. Pausing to take a breath, she tried to think of a place to go where she would be safe again. Nothing came to mind, and in the meantime the engine's roar passed overhead and kept going.

 _I can't keep going like this alone. I've already got two gangs that want my head, and I doubt the ABB would object to having it either. Hell, I don't even know if this wound won't get infected or something, and I can't even go to a hospital._

The Wards were out ever since her trigger. The three gangs weren't even an option. Taylor's fingers clenched around Webweaver's card. _Let's see if the Elite live up to their promises.  
_  
Taylor dialed the number, using the phone's screen as a light, but received no signal. _Oh, right._ Slightly embarrassed by her mistake, she climbed to the top of the ladder, carefully listened, and after deciding the street was cleared, lifted the cover and climbed out. Webweaver picked up on the third ring.

 _"Hello, Eris. Changed your mind already?"  
_  
"Yes. Can we talk? Face to face? I... I need your help."

 _"Very well. Can you be at the warehouse in thirty minutes?"_

Taylor hesitated. It would be close, what with the pain still in her side, but she thought she could make it.

"I hope so. Forty minutes, tops."

 _"See you there, then. Good luck."  
_  
Taylor set off towards the warehouse, moving as fast as the bullethole allowed. The pain wasn't getting worse, but she felt so... tired...

When her destination was almost in sight, her vision swayed and she found herself leaning against a wall to support herself. After a few seconds, she stood back up and almost bumped into a teenager in a red bodysuit, black lines tracing across it. His face was hidden behind a red balaclava.

"Eris? That you? Shit, what happened?" He even sounded genuinely concerned.

"Who... who are you?" She couldn't remember ever seeing him.

"Jigsaw. I'm in Web's squad, she saw you coming and sent me out to meet you... come on, let's get inside."

Taylor didn't have it in her to resist. Coming in, she found herself face to golden helmet with Webweaver herself again.

"Hello, Eris. I presume you'll want to take care of that before getting to business?" she asked, holding up a first aid kit.


	10. Chapter 10

**January 21st, 2011 - Friday  
Midnight  
**  
Taylor finished wrapping the bandages around her side. The bullethole had completely stopped bleeding partway through, the wound looking like it had spent days healing already. She still felt slightly light-headed, probably from blood loss, but she was now certain she'd feel just fine after a meal and a night's sleep. She came out of the office she'd used for privacy, and turned to walk towards a still-patient Webweaver. Jigsaw was leaning against a wall closer to the entrance. _Time to deal with the devil, then.  
_  
"Medical emergency out of the way, then? Glad to hear it. The deal stands - you get paid after every job, we'll arrange for a place to stay, and we all look out for our own. You won't be ordered to kill." Taylor briefly considered the fact this woman thought the latter had to be specified.

"And about the rest of you? Associating with murderers..."

"We don't plan for assassinations or executions. However, anyone who comes after us with lethal force... we will not pull our punches either." Webweaver's voice had an edge to it at the end.

Taylor thought back to what happened an hour ago. After turning the Merchants against each other with her power, she couldn't honestly say that this would be going further than she already had. _If she means what she says, anyway.  
_  
"And how much money we're talking about?"

"While it's still just us capes? Equal share of any job. Once we're expanding our operation and have henchmen and property to take care of, a portion of our profits will have to go that way as well," Webweaver answered as if she was discussing the weather.

"What kind of operation are you talking about here? Smuggling? Drug pushing? Extortion? Prostitution?" This was seriously starting to sound like just another gang to Taylor.

"Smuggling and drugs might happen, after all, where there's demand there will be supply. The real prize would be Parian's cooperation, however - between the two of us, we could make millions cleanly." Her tone shifted from even to enthusiastic at the end there.

"How, exactly, does that work?" _If there's such a thing as "too good to be true", that's it.  
_  
"Bulletproof clothing superior to modern body armor in mass quantities. Power synergies are an amazing thing, aren't they? But we're wandering off-topic. You've already decided to join, haven't you?" Webweaver answered in an amused voice. She stepped toward Taylor and stuck out her hand. Taylor looked at it.

 _Last chance to turn back. But... I've made so many enemies already. I need allies.  
_  
Taylor shook Webweaver's hand.

"Welcome to the Elite, Eris. Jigsaw?"

The teenager, quiet until now, sprang to his feet at that and grabbed a packet off a dusty crate. He walked up to them.

"Paycheck for your first job, Eris. The Merchants really shouldn't have picked such a predictable time to bring half their unpowered forces and the most dangerous cape out of their territory - we robbed each of their drug houses except the ones where Trainwreck and Mush were staying. Wish I could see Squealer's face when she finds what Dynamic did to her garage," he chuckled, passing me the packet. The thin paper revealed stacks of bills.

"Wait - you knew they were going after me?"

"Squealer going berserk after Skidmark's death was inevitable - I had expected her to go after the Empire considering he was executed by one of their grunts after being downed in the fight, but you were both new and an easier target. I will not apologize for not warning you - after all, I did promise no more favors until you joined up."

This was more in line with what Taylor expected going in. Gritting her teeth, she asked:

"Where do we go from here, then?"

"I imagine you want time to heal your wounds and an actual bed to sleep in? Dynamic's waiting in his car. He'll take you to one of the apartments we're renting, you can set up there. We'll show you the real base of operations at a later time." Webweaver waved dismissively, and fireflies formed an arrow in front of Taylor. She followed it, Web leaving the warehouse through another door. After turning a corner, she came across a car parked in an alleyway. The driver waved at her, and she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Hey, Taylor. I'm Martin, Dynamic in costume." He stuck his hand out for a handshake. He seemed... not hostile, but as if he was going through the motions. Taylor shook his hand, put on the seatbelt, and they drove off. Half an hour later, they arrived at a block of flats. The one they were headed for had been on the second floor. It was fairly spartan - one bedroom, one living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, with minimal furniture and almost no decor. Martin tapped a table to get her attention.

"Your keys, spare keys" - he pointed at a set of them, - "phone" - he pointed at a smartphone, -"that one will be for business calls, oh, and that's makeup and hair dye - Web said it'd be better if you used it, don't want someone to recognize you and follow you to your place again, do we?" he finished, pointing at a bag that did, in fact, contain makeup and several colors of hair dye.

"Make yourself comfortable. One last thing before I go - the boss asked how long the wound will take to heal." He did not sound particularly concerned.

Taylor considered her answer. Even if she worked with them, that was information too easily turned against her.

"Haven't been hurt that bad before - a couple of days, maybe? Just to be on the safe side?"

Martin nodded at that, and said "Goodbye" in the same rehearsed tone he used to greet her. Then he walked out the door, leaving Taylor alone in a flat rented by supervillains. She checked the apartment for bugs, found none, and went to bed, thinking angry thoughts at her wound until she fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**January 3rd, 2011 - Monday  
Morning  
**  
Three PRT vans rolled into Winslow's parking lot. The panicked calls that flooded their lines fifteen minutes ago had been more than adequate explanation to the scale of the response - a Master attack against _kids_ did not deserve any less - but Assault and Battery had another, less public reason for their concern. Unknown to the troopers disembarking before them, one of the callers had been Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity. The possibility of her being the intended target could not be dismissed lightly. Even Assault, the joker, had been uncharacteristically quiet during the trip.

Battery was the first of the two out of the van, and took in the decrepit building. Faces filled the windows, many frightened, some curious. There was a tension in the air, but no sign of outright panic.

"Guess the party's over, at least. Let's get inside, check on the victims." Assault suited action to word and moved forward, and Battery followed him in.

The scene was in one of the hallways. Thirty people were there, all in various degrees of injury. Twelve people weren't moving at all, and one girl's neck was twisted in a way that guaranteed she'd never move again. A few others were lying in enough blood to make their condition unambiguous.

As the cape duo stepped closer, one of the healthier-looking victims, a short yet muscled black girl, waved them over. Both recognized Shadow Stalker, of course, but it wouldn't do to make that obvious.

"Can you tell us what happened here, Miss?" Battery took the lead - her partner's crassness was neither needed nor wanted here.

"Got here. One girl, the creepy loner type, you know these kinds of people - she was yelling at one of my friends for some reason. I tried to step in, we got into a fight, everything went spinning for a moment and then I was so _angry_. Everyone just... started tearing into each other. She ran off. I think she's gone. Everyone started calming down a couple of minutes later."

Battery nodded at that. She couldn't be sure it was really all over, of course, but the injured needed help and this sounded like a fresh trigger - unlikely that they'd come back around _immediately_. After ordering one of the troopers to call for Panacea, she asked Shadow Stalker:

"The girl who did this, do you know who she is? Her name, face?"

"Yeah. Hebert. Taylor Hebert."

Battery committed the name to memory. At the time, it did not strike her as odd that Sophia knew the name off-hand. She looked around for her partner, and found him approaching one of the lockers farther down the hallway, holding his nose.

"Hey, Puppy, take a look at this!" he shouted, voice somewhat muffled. As Battery came closer, it did not take her long to figure out why.

One of the lockers was wide open, a noxious red mess spilling out of it. Battery recognized the indistinct objects in it as used tampons.

"Hey!" she called out towards the victims. "Is this Hebert's locker?"

A couple of the less injured students shouted confirmations back.

"Seems we'll have to check out her house, then. If there's anywhere we'll find answers, it's there. Hell, maybe the girl even ran back home, it's not unusual for fresh triggers to do that," Assault noted. The pair then sent one of the troopers to talk with the principal and get the girl's home address. By the time he returned, Panacea was already there, setting a curvy redhead's jaw back in its place. Battery couldn't help but note that the two most injured have been skipped over with a weary shake of the head...

~o~o~o~

 **January 3rd, 2011 - Monday  
Afternoon  
**  
Miss Militia, flanked by two PRT officers, knocked on the door to the Hebert house. It took a few hours for a search warrant to be issued, and entering the house was ruled out on the grounds that the PRT troopers assigned to watch it reported no signs of either inhabitant being home until an hour ago, when Danny Hebert returned home, agitated. Apparently he'd heard about what had happened in the school and came home to look for his daughter.

When the door opened, Militia saw a tall, thin, balding man seemingly on the verge of panic.

"Is this about Winslow? I heard that there's been an attack and she ran off, but she hasn't come home. What happened? Have you found her?" Hannah could see that it was all he could do not to break down there and then.

"I'm sorry, Mr Hebert, we haven't. We're trying to find her, but we need leads. We'll have to search the house," she said, holding out the warrant for him to read. He looked at it with dead eyes, then opened the door wider and stepped back. Miss Militia and the officers entered. One of them, whose nametag read "Hernandez", spoke to Danny.

"Sorry about the broken step, sir. We'll cover the repairs," he said, slightly embarrassed, while his colleague, Officer Hill, went upstairs. Finding Taylor's room, she started her search while Officer Hernandez examined the living room. Miss Militia turned back to Danny.

"Have you noticed your daughter behaving oddly recently, Mr Hebert? New friends, falling out with old friends, going out at unusual times, dropping grades, anything?"

"Nothing recent, no. She's been withdrawn since... since Annette, but it's been almost two years," he replied after a few moments' thinking.

"Does she have any friends she regularly hangs out with? Maybe we could talk to them?"

"Emma Barnes, though now that I think of it I haven't seen them together in a while. She hasn't mentioned anyone else."

Miss Militia frowned. The name sounded familiar. A few more standard questions resulted in no other leads and painted a picture of a reclusive, lonely girl. Hannah couldn't help but remember the theories she'd heard about Master triggers. If there's a perfect fit for one...

Her thoughts were interrupted by Officer Hill making her way back down. In her gloved hands was a journal.

"Well, if we're looking for a motive, we definitely found one. Damn, if this is true..." she said, handing the journal to Miss Militia.

Flipping past the first few pages, the picture started falling into place. A bullying campaign like that was something she could scarcely believe could happen without anyone noticing, but there were too many details, too many events to be pure fabrication. And three names were repeated page after page.

Madison Clements.

Emma Barnes.

 _Sophia Hess.  
_  
Putting the journal into an evidence bag before she crushed it, Hannah asked Danny one last question.

"When did you say the last time you saw your daughter hanging out with Ms Barnes was, Mr Hebert?"

When she explained the reasoning behind the question, Miss Militia learned that Danny was a man with a temper. He did, however, seem to understand that going to the Barnes' house and beating his old friend up would only make things worse. _Shadow Stalker has some explaining to do._

~o~o~o~

 **January 3rd, 2011 - Monday  
Evening**

"Gone? What do you mean, _gone?_ "

Emily Piggot had been getting bad news the entire day. A Master triggering and attacking Winslow first thing Monday morning was unusual even by Brokcton Bay standards. Finding out her troublemaker Ward was likely responsible for that, an hour after she'd been sent home, didn't do her mood any favors either.

The squad captain gulped.

"Ma'am. We entered the Hess residence, according to her mother, she had went straight to her room after returning and hadn't left it. When we got past the lock, however, there was no sign of Miss Hess. Most drawers and the wardrobe were open, it seemed as if she'd packed her things and left in a hurry. We also found no sign of her costume or weapons."

"And you didn't find anything hinting at where she went."

"No, ma'am. Her phones were gone too, and the family didn't even know she was gone."

Piggot sighed. As... _upset_... about this whole mess she was, the trooper before her was not at fault.

"Dismissed, Captain."

The man saluted and left the room. Piggot sent Armsmaster a message. He appeared in her office five minutes later.

"Yes, Director?"

"I presume tracing Hess's phones didn't accomplish anything?"

"Unfortunately, no. We checked around the last known location - they were broken and tossed in dumpsters. It is unlikely that the data's recoverable after the damage."

 _One more thing that couldn't go right today.  
_  
"We have, however, figured out how she knew we were coming for her."

"Go on."

"About fifteen minutes before the squad approached, she received a call on her civilian phone from Emma Barnes. Her father, Alan Barnes, had been called by Danny Hebert half an hour before that."

"So we're guessing he called Mr Barnes to yell at him for letting his daughter bully Miss Hebert, and let it slip that we'd found the journal?"

"As good a guess as any. We'll have to ask him about that, of course."

"Seems we'll have to. No chance of bringing Hess in fast and quiet now - we have to be ready to explain things to the public if she goes out in costume now."

The visible part of Armsmaster's face had a grimace to match Emily's own. The man was not a fan of the media when it wasn't singing his praises. Emily continued.

"Miss Hebert herself is still a concern, as well. We can't cover up a Master attack that resulted in eight deaths, even for a trigger event. Try to bring her in, we can't have a Master this dangerous recruited by a gang, but judging by the fact her first act was to go into hiding, she's likely to try keeping her head down at least in the short term. We can't make her a priority between the gangs and the Shadow Stalker situation, however. Dismissed."

~o~o~o~

 **January 15th, 2011 - Saturday  
Afternoon  
**  
As the elevator doors parted before Dean, he heard raucous laughter coming from the Wards room. Dennis and Missy were looking at a screen and laughing their asses off.

"What's so funny?"

They both turned back to look at him. Dennis's aura had a faint hint of amusement at recognizing him. Missy's reaction was... more enthusiastic.

"Oh, I'll answer that with a question: How do you beat a motherfucking Nazi?" the redhead responded, eyes mirthful.

"Alright, I'll bite. How _do_ you beat a motherfucking Nazi?"

Dean finally made it across the room to see the screen they were staring at. Proudly displayed on it was a slightly-blurry image of a black-haired teenage girl swinging a white - literally white - man by the legs into another man, one wearing medieval-style armor. The image was captioned "I'LL BEAT A MOTHERFUCKING NAZI/WITH ANOTHER MOTHERFUCKING NAZI."

"Wait... isn't that..?" Dean started.

"Eris, Alabaster, Crusader. Yeah, there's video too." Missy was trying to hold in her laughter and almost succeeding. Dean wisely decided against pointing out that it made her look like a child trying too hard to look grown-up. She continued in a calmer voice. "Jokes aside, that means we'll have to update the profile. Strength like that, and I'm pretty sure she got shot at one point - a Brute/Master in one package is going to be a pain to deal with. We'll need to check if the Director saw this, well, not _this_ this" - she pointed at the captioned image - "but I think she'll appreciate knowing what the new cape in town can do. If nobody else has told her yet, anyway."

Dean couldn't help but shudder at the idea of fighting a villainous mirror to Vicky. At least Eris couldn't fly...

~o~o~o~

 **January 31st, 2011 - Monday  
Morning  
**  
"Can someone explain to me," Director Piggot asked nobody in particular, twitch in her eye, "why all the Merchant capes are wrapped in cocoons right in front of the PRT building?"


	12. Chapter 12

**January 23rd, 2011 - Sunday  
Afternoon  
**  
Taylor's work phone rang, still set to its factory default tune. After checking the screen and finding it read "Webweaver", she picked it up.

 _"Hello, Eris. I hope you've recovered?"  
_  
"Yes. The wound is completely gone." Actually, it had completely healed up by yesterday afternoon, but Webweaver didn't need to know that. _Yet._

 _"Glad to hear it. Have you changed your look? Safe apartments_ _ **are**_ _a finite resource, after all."_ Her tone was mildly amused.

"...Yes, I did." Dyeing her hair a light shade of brown had made her feel as if she'd wronged her mother's memory, somehow, but she couldn't deny getting recognized was getting old. The chosen color was probably healthier for her hair than bleaching it blonde, at least. _And healthier for my sanity than dyeing it red._

 _"Good. Time for you to see our headquarters and officially meet the team, then. Dynamic will pick you up in two hours."  
_  
"Alright, then. Is that all?"

 _"Yes. See you there."_ Webweaver hung up the phone, and Taylor went about preparing for her first meeting with her partners in crime.

~o~o~o~

 **January 23rd, 2011 - Sunday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
Taylor got into Dynamic... _Martin's_ car. He greeted her in the same rehearsed way as last time, and they drove off. Neither attempted small talk. After a half-hour ride, Martin pulled over behind a seemingly-abandoned warehouse in the Docks. Taylor could've done without the reminder of the Bay's decline that made _those_ so plentiful. He led her to a back door. It seemed old at first glance, but a closer look made the new hinges and lock obvious.

"Your copy of the key", Martin stated, passing the item in question to Taylor. She unlocked the door and entered first. The floor of the warehouse was covered in crates about seven feet high, four-by-four at the base. Their sides had plentiful air holes. Looking around, Taylor saw a tall, tan woman with short blonde hair observing them through one of the second floor office windows. She waved. Taylor and Martin went to the office in question, and found a teenage guy with vaguely Asian features and a pale, dark-haired woman, this one thankfully slightly shorter than Taylor's height ( _would've been weird to be the shortest one on the team..._ ) lounging around on a couch that was placed against one of the walls. The blonde woman, who Taylor presumed to be Webweaver, grinned.

"Ah, there you guys are! Took you long enough to show up, Cameron's coming straight from a different city and she _still_ got here first."

Taylor's thoughts screeched to a halt. _This_ was Webweaver unmasked? The woman whose whole demeanor screamed "I want you to know I'm trying to wrap you around my finger?" Her shock was apparently visible, since the other woman chuckled.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, the whole high-class posh thing is all about _image_. I'm Jennifer Hastings, a pleasure to meet you. You've already met Martin - even I don't know his last name - and over there we have Lim Wright - Jigsaw when on the job - and Cameron 'Vortex' Stark." The two waved when their names were mentioned, Lim lazily, Cameron more enthusiastically.

"Now that we're all introduced - or damn well should be, I told everyone to read the dossier we had on you, Taylor - let's get to the meat of the meeting. First off - powers. We need to know what each of us can do before we start making any plans. I'll go first - you've probably pegged my power as an insect Master. That's technically true, but misses out on important details. The range's about a block, but ongoing instructions remain for... well, actually, I haven't had a bug live long enough to forget them yet. 'Dropping like flies' isn't just a colourful phrase. Haven't found a limit to how many reprogrammed bugs I can have either, but controlling a lot of bugs directly gets difficult, especially if they're different kinds, spread out or have to follow different orders. Oh, and the best part." She held out her hand, and one of her weird black widow-like spiders crawled out of her sleeve and perched atop of her open palm. It stared at everyone with its numerous eyes. "Any bugs under my control breed? I can change the genetics of their offspring. Bigger, faster, tougher silk, different poisons, basically anything that happens in a natural insect and some things that don't are fair game. These Gold Widows? My first project, been improving them for over a year. They're bigger than their cousins, stronger than their size implies, silk's better even than Darwin's Bark spiders, and their venom's replaced by ketamine. And these beauties are completely docile - they won't attack humans unless actively being crushed or I tell them to, and won't eat each other if left unattended... actually, the less-lethal bite and docility are probably the only reason the Chicago PRT aren't calling for my head, considering an older strain got loosed into the wild after an accident and I'm not sure I caught them all." Taylor wasn't sure what was the creepiest part of what she just experienced - the spider still staring at her, the woman's motor-mouthed enthusiasm, or the possibility that there might be a colony of these things somewhere in Chicago. _Maybe if the world's lucky, Myrddin's issues with burning buildings will solve that problem...  
_  
Webweaver finally stopped for breath, before pointing to Martin. He nodded.

"Dynamic. Kinetic energy Tinker. Somewhat more narrow a focus than most Tinkers, unfortunately, but that just means quality over quantity for my tech." A man of few words, it seemed. Though almost anyone would appear to be such after Jennifer.

Lim decided to show off instead of talking. He grabbed his left wrist with his right hand, and with a gentle tug, his left hand was detached and held in his right. He tossed his hand at Jennifer, where it latched on to her shoulder, wrist pointing behind her back as she yelped. An instant later, Jigsaw was standing behind her, both hands on her shoulders. He let go a second later, and bowed sarcastically. _Great, my teammates include a woman who keeps spiders up her sleeves, and a guy who can creep_ _ **her**_ _out.  
_  
"Can split off several parts at once, teleporting retains momentum of target bit and carries objects that don't have any point more than about three inches from my skin, plus I have _very_ good balance and don't miss my throws if the target's in range and nothing interferes. That's about it."

Cameron's turn was next.

"Unless you want your whole office wrecked, not demonstrating my power indoors. I create a field that pulls things to its center - closer to the edge, stronger the pull, the entire object seems to receive a uniform pull, so creating the zone inside someone won't pull their feet back into their ass, just make it hard to take more than a step away from the center. Oh, and I can move the field around without dismissing it." Martin seemed to be very interested in that... _right, Tinker, probably getting ideas._

That left me.

"I can make people angry, sense anger around me, and it makes me stronger, faster, tougher, and lets me heal. About half a block range to sense, line of sight to cause. Haven't experimented much with the Master bit."

"Frontline, crowd control and recon at once? You got a hell of a draw there, Taylor." Jennifer seemed very happy to have me on her side now that she knew what I can do.

"Not really. The people at Winslow..."

"Were an accident. We all know how... how it is when you get your power." Webweaver's grin faltered for a few seconds, before she collected herself and continued. "Besides, you crippled the Merchants already. When we finish them off, how many people will be safe from the Merchants? You can't change the past, but you can settle your debts."

"Finish them off?" I eyed her warily. _That does not sound like 'we don't plan to kill anyone'...  
_  
"Oh, stop with those looks, seriously. Listen, I've got a plan, I think you guys will love it..."

~o~o~o~

 **January 23rd, 2011 - Sunday  
Early Evening**

Jennifer asked Taylor to stay a bit after the others left. At Taylor's questioning look, she pulled out a few sheets of paper from a drawer and laid them on the table. They looked like...

"Sketches for costumes?" Taylor asked, examining the first one.

"Yep. Changing your look then making it public the first time you have to fight isn't really a good plan now, is it? This one probably won't be permanent - you're still young enough that you might grow out of it, and once we're more established I might just reach out to Parian for the costumes, but you do need to have _something_ for your cape career. Plus, a costume is a message - even if someone recognizes you out in public, they might not cause too much of a fuss since you're obviously not doing anything yet. Generally, going after capes in their civilian identities is heavily frowned upon - a gentlemen's agreement, if you will - but make no mistake, if people think they can get away with it, they might just do it anyway, so be careful with it." Taylor listened with one ear, looking through the sketches. She eventually settled on a two-piece hooded bodysuit with heavy gloves and boots, torso padded with thicker cloth, face concealed by scarf and mask.

"This one, I think. Though I'm guessing it won't be that grey when it's done?"

"Depends on you, really. I can make it basically any color if I get the right dye that won't kill my spiders when fed to them, but I think the silk's natural grey might be the best. Red's taken by Jigsaw, Dynamic's blue, Vortex has green covered, and you already saw me in all gold. Black or darker grey makes you look too much like Night and Fog, pure white's a bitch for keeping clean... hm, violet maybe?"

Taylor considered that for a bit.

"Think I'll go with violet, then."

"Alright, then. Now, follow me, we need to take measurements." Hints of a grin were showing on her face again.

Taylor followed Jennifer into one of the adjacent rooms, where a few mannequins stood. Jennifer pushed a female one to the center of the room, and ordered Taylor to stand next to it.

"Wait, how are you taking the measurements? I don't see any rulers..."

Jennifer chuckled.

"Arms out to the sides, please. _And don't flinch._ "

Before Taylor could ask why, a handful of smaller spiders dropped from the ceiling and caught themselves on her arms. She almost jumped out of her skin. Then she felt tiny legs on said skin.

"Are you _crazy_?" she asked Jennifer, trying not to upset the spiders.

"Come on, I need to match the mannequin to your body type somehow. Doesn't get more precise than that." She was clearly enjoying this.

Taylor noticed that the mannequin was also covered in the same kind of spider. Jennifer walked up to it and pressed a button on the mannequin's back. Then she pulled at its arm to extend it. Repeating it with both arms, both legs, and spine, the mannequin now had the exact same height and proportions as Taylor. Jennifer then set to regulating the width of its arms and legs, individual fingers, and waist, Taylor feeling the spiders swarming to the matching points on her body. She _tried_ not to pout when Jennifer pushed the mannequin's chest back down, but a chuckle informed her that she had failed.

"You know, if that's a problem, I can pad it..." _Yep. She's definitely having too much fun here.  
_  
"No thanks!" Taylor squeaked out, scandalized but unwilling to be too loud, because _spiders_.

By the time they were done, Taylor had a promise of a costume far tougher than modern body armor ("I could have made something that tough for myself, but what I have already is liable to outlive me") and a fresh case of arachnophobia. Jennifer then took Taylor to her apartment, where she tried to distract herself from the experience with ice cream she'd found in the freezer.


	13. Chapter 13

**January 31st, 2011 - Monday  
Early Morning**

Taylor and the rest of the Elite were hiding in a building across the street from a Merchant-occupied warehouse. Getting there took dodging multiple Merchant patrols, a task made far easier by Webweaver's bugs letting the team know about them well in advance, though it did mean having to hide their van a couple of blocks away from the actual target. Most of them were now hanging around on the first floor ready to move out, while Webweaver herself had taken position in one of the top floors to get a better view of the field. The plan they'd hashed out was surprisingly direct, then again, they _were_ dealing with Merchants - tactical geniuses, their enemies weren't, and having taken shelter in a new location they hoped the Elite hadn't found yet meant far fewer fortifications. Dynamic, Jigsaw and Webweaver were wearing the same costumes Taylor had seen them in previously, while Vortex - it was so much easier to think of them all by their cape names when they were in costume - was wearing a green bodysuit with a darker spiral pattern covering most of her upper back, her face hidden behind a green theatre mask set in a neutral expression. Taylor's own costume had been completed just yesterday, and it fit her like it had been woven on her. _Considering the measuring session, it might as well have been... Worth it, though._ Taylor was conflicted about wearing it - on one hand, it made the whole cape thing feel more real, on the other, even as a kid she'd never expected to actually find herself in a cape fight. _Or so many other things that have happened..._ Webweaver's voice coming through their earbuds made everyone jump to attention.

 _"Squealer's in her workshop, Tinkering. Trainwreck's in the main area along with about a dozen unpowered mooks, half of them asleep. There's also someone that's most likely Mush, seems asleep. Everyone ready?"  
_  
Taylor's confirmation joined the other three.

 _"Go."  
_  
Taylor, Dynamic and Jigsaw opened the door and started moving towards the warehouse. As Vortex looked out a window, a green field appeared in front of the warehouse's door, and it started creaking. The four Merchants outside the door jumped away from it, panicking. One took a shot from Dynamic's kinetic rifle to the gut and curled up on the ground. The other three finally spotted them, and their spiking anger woke Taylor's power. As she grabbed Jigsaw's hand and charged ahead, she pushed her power into them for more speed. She took a few shotgun shots, but they bounced off her armor harmlessly. Tossing Jigsaw's hand past the far one, she disarmed the nearest one (spraining his wrist in the process) as the rest of Jigsaw reappeared mid-flight, knocking his target to the ground and putting his stun gun to the target's neck as Taylor's fist sank into the last one's gut. Another loud creak, and the warehouse's door finally gave in and was torn out of the wall. As it hit the ground, the team was confronted by a giant of a man with metal parts, a growing trash golem, and about a dozen junkies with guns. A woman's terrified screams were coming from deeper in the building. Vortex's field swept through the room, knocking all the Merchants except Trainwreck off their feet. The Case 53's raw strength had apparently been enough to keep him upright, if barely.

Webweaver's voice hissed in her ear again as they were getting off the ground.

 _"Remember, Eris. You take the normals first. Dynamic, Jigsaw, go for Trainwreck until she's done. I managed to bite Mush a few times before he started gathering his trash - unless his powers offer resistance, he'll be out in a few minutes. We've made enough noise that their patrols will start returning to base by then, though."  
_  
Taylor had remembered that part of the plan - by the time Webweaver finished speaking, she'd already ran up to the nearest Merchant and shoved his gun out of the way before tugging his arm sideways. Both their anger at being attacked and Taylor's power were making her _fast_ , and she was on to the second thug before the first even hit the ground. She twisted that one's gun arm before punching him in the gut - going for the head was both too likely to kill them (Web had drilled that into her - concussions could be _dangerous_ in more ways than immediately obvious) and knocking them unconscious meant less power for her (Web would probably have tried to drill that one in too if Taylor hadn't already learned that from experience. She'd definitely brought that up when planning, though.)

Taylor hadn't quite accounted for the effects of drugs on some of the Merchants, however. By the time she was on her sixth target, two had passed out from pain anyway, as had two of the ones taken down outside, costing her some of her speed and strength. One more tried to get up and put his weight on his broken arm, collapsing to the ground with a grunt. Three more went down without such incidents. As she had the tenth's gun in her grasp and was about to yank it out, however, she heard a dreadfully familiar sound coming from the direction of Squealer's workshop.

"GET DOWN!" she shouted, following her own advice. The minigun on Squealer's vehicle roared... but despite an infernal racket, no bullets came their way. When it quieted down, she could hear pained screaming from the outside.

 _"Get back to it,"_ Webweaver spoke through the earbuds. _"She's buried in thousands of bugs and the ketamine's kicking in, that was firing blind. She wasn't even aiming for the right wall, hit her own reinforcements. Jigsaw, go get her."  
_  
As Taylor stood up again, Mush got bowled over by another pass of Vortex's field. He seemed to have a harder time getting up than the last pass. Vortex had first suggested keeping her field centered on the two Merchant capes to contain them, but Web had pointed out that if Mush's garbage or Trainwreck's armor counted as separate objects then they could've gotten crushed. Judging by Vortex going for passes instead of just grabbing one of them, the first pass had confirmed that.

Another charge incapacitated the last two Merchant thugs, leaving only the two capes standing inside the warehouse. Trainwreck was charging at Dynamic, who calmly stood his ground, Jigsaw having already ran off towards the workshop. Once the bigger cape was in range to swing, Dynamic sprang forward, ducking under the blow and putting his kinetic rifle to the back of one of Trainwreck's knees. A pull of the trigger shattered it, bits of metal shrapnel flying out. Vortex's field swept past one last time, finally knocking him down. Mush was on the ground, the ketamine having finally done its work. Jigsaw reappeared, an unconscious Squealer draped across his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Metal screeched again as Dynamic removed another of Trainwreck's metal limbs.

 _"We're done here, it seems. Eris, their patrols are back, six people already in line of sight, about thirty more should filter in over the next few minutes. Clear the way to the van, I'll watch the flanks."  
_  
Taylor nodded and headed out, finding eight Merchants. They were _mad_ , and combined with the ones inside, she felt like she could so easily break them all. _Wait, that might not be necessary._ When she charged the reinforcements, she deliberately slowed down after taking down the first two Merchants to get in reach. She stood up and turned towards another thug with a shotgun, and he pulled the trigger. As the pellets bounced off her armor, she didn't even flinch. He tried a few more times, to no more effect - though the fact he'd tried again at all left her uncertain whether he was that brave or that dumb. _Dumb, probably._ As she ripped the shotgun out of his hands, bending a few fingers backwards in the process, she noticed that another group of Merchants coming out of an alleyway a dozen yards away saw that and decided to turn and run. Another bullet pinging off her shoulder informed her that a group coming in from behind _her_ didn't seem to be as impressed.

 _So be it, then. At this point it's their own fault...  
_  
By the time Webweaver's voice came through the earbuds again, informing her that nobody else seemed to be incoming, almost two dozen Merchants were lying in front of her in varying states of injury. She then had to wait until Webweaver was done wrapping the captured capes in cocoons, and called 911 when they were almost back at their van.

~o~o~o~

 **January 31st, 2011 - Monday  
Morning  
**  
The unmarked van came to a stop as close to the PRT building as it could without risking the PRT getting twitchy. Taylor stood up from where she, Dynamic and Jigsaw were keeping an eye on the captured Merchants in the back. Vortex was driving, while Webweaver had her gold widows bite Mush and Squealer when they started stirring. She'd apparently decided not to gamble with the effects of ketamine on the Case 53's physiology, instead relying on wrapping him in a thicker cocoon than the other two. The back door finally opened, Vortex stepping aside to clear the way, and the three each grabbed a Merchant - Jigsaw grabbed Squealer since she was the lightest, Taylor was the next with Trainwreck, and Dynamic was stuck with Mush due to having a gas mask as part of his costume. As they proudly dragged the captured capes to the front door, the passersby heading to work immediately took notice. The first phones were out fast enough that one could be excused for thinking some of the people involved had superpowers.

"What's going on here?" one of the PRT troopers by the door asked, eyeing the capes warily.

 ** _"The Elite come bearing gifts. Do try not to lose them."_** Webweaver confidently strode into the scene, surrounded by her swarm, voice augmented by its speech. Everybody's eyes were on her.

 ** _"This is our first gift to Brockton Bay. No longer will the filth of the Merchants prey on the vulnerable of the city - so long as the heroes can keep three capes without allies on the outside in a prison, that is. We'd hate to have to do their job for them twice."_** With that, Webweaver turned to head back towards the van, and the rest of us followed. The troopers didn't like what Webweaver's little speech, but the civilians were more conflicted. Some seemed angry, perhaps at another gang moving into the city. Most seemed varying degrees of curious and wary, likely wondering where things will go from there. A few even seemed... happy? Awed? Taylor guessed they had personal issues with the Merchants. Vortex nudged her.

"Come on, Eris, smile for the cameras. Even if they can't see much of your face, it still shows." Her own posture implied a grin enough that it almost seemed believable, but as Taylor rolled her eyes, she wondered if anyone will catch on that the brief exchange had been planned in advance, including Vortex being loud enough to be heard by the nearest civilians. After all, pointing to Taylor and saying "This is Eris, she's with us now" would've looked silly, but her being part of the team did have to become public knowledge.

They ran a few circles and detours before heading back to the warehouse to make sure nobody was following them. As far as any of them could tell, nobody was.

After hiding the van in a nearby garage, they filtered into the office. Web's bugs had followed them into the building, before crawling into the crates.

"Well, that went smoothly. How's the costume working out for you, Taylor?" Webweaver asked, removing her helmet and futilely trying to smooth out the bad case of helmet hair.

"Excellent. Didn't even feel a thing from the shotgun."

"Oh? Where'd you get hit?"

Taylor pointed, and Web came up to have a look.

"Nope, not even a scratch. Good, good. Anyone has something to say about the fight itself?"

After waiting for a few seconds and receiving no answers, she sighed.

"Okay, fair enough. The only sticking point I see is that Squealer got to fire the minigun. Sorry, guys, I fucked up on that one. Let's just hope that the whole place was abandoned enough that she didn't hit some civilian a few buildings over, that thing overpenetrates hard. Anyway, if nobody has anything to say, then we might as well go home. I, for one, definitely need it after waking up at two AM for this..."

With that, everyone left. Taylor took Dynamic's offer to drive her home, and once there she booted up the computer in the living room to check on PHO.


	14. Chapter 14

**February 2nd, 2011 - Wednesday  
Afternoon  
**  
 _Smack.  
_  
Taylor's foot stopped inches away from Dynamic's face, his gauntlet bearing the force of her kick with about as much reaction as a brick wall. Before she could pull her foot back, his fingers wrapped around her ankle and forced it up, a sweep of his own leg catching her in the back of the knee. She hit the mat like a flipped tortoise.

"Don't do that," Dynamic chided her impassively. "Kicking above the belt is just showing off most of the time - if you want results, aim for the knees and groin." He offered his hand, and Taylor took it and pulled herself up. "Though I hope you'll understand I'd rather not have that last one demonstrated on me. Let's go again."

They continued for another hour, while Jennifer, Lim and Cameron took turns two at a time. Jen had insisted on making these sparring sessions a regular thing, and this was as good a time as they would get to start while they kept an eye on the reactions to their debut in the city. She went over the initial response, calling it "about as expected" - people were wary of the new gang of villains in town, but almost everyone who wasn't complaining about them on principle agreed that they'd prefer the Elite to the Merchants in the city. Surprisingly, some people were taking issue not with the Elite in general, but with them picking up the "murderous Master."

Most of the team was out of costume - including Taylor - but Dynamic was in full gear so Taylor could get some meaningful practice in. She had actually won the last few bouts, but that was still in part thanks to her opponent getting winded. As her teammates left the improvised gym to chat, Jennifer pulled Taylor aside.

"Is something the matter?" Taylor asked.

"Not in the way you're thinking, no. I've taken the liberty of swinging past your father's place a couple of days earlier. I'd... need to make sure, but I think the PRT's well and truly given up on keeping watch on your father. Which means... two things, really. First, you can probably visit without drawing the heroes' attention, if you're smart about it."

Taylor tried to imagine how that conversation would go. _"Oh, hello Dad, it's me! I've caused a massacre in my school and joined a gang of supervillains, how have you been?"  
_  
Jennifer noticed her hesitation.

"I think you should do it. Whichever way it goes down will be better for you both than not knowing. Plus, there's a warning that needs to be delivered."

Taylor's heart skipped a beat. _That sounds way too much like a "shame if something happened" line.  
_  
"With the PRT no longer keeping an eye on him and you publicly aligned with us... Going after a cape's family is a line not everyone's willing to cross, and being strong enough to retaliate helps, but he's still in danger now. He needs to know to keep an eye out, that someone might come after him."

"You didn't think of this before? Only now that it's too late to warn him in advance?"

Webweaver briefly flashed anger at that, before collecting herself again.

"It hadn't crossed my mind that you wouldn't think of it. Doesn't matter now, does it? I'd say we should visit him on Friday, gives enough time for me to stake the place out properly, make sure there really isn't anyone else keeping an eye on him."

Taylor took a deep breath. As painful as meeting Dad might be, having him only know about what she's doing from the news just wouldn't do.

"Okay."

~o~o~o~

 **February 4th, 2011 - Friday  
Evening  
**  
Taylor skipped the broken step and stood before the door of the house she grew up in. The lights were on in the living room, but the curtains were closed. Her hand hovered in the air, and it seemed like knocking would take more strength than any of the stunts she'd pulled in fights. Jennifer's voice came in over the earbud.

 _"Taylor, I understand this isn't easy, but you don't want to linger in front of the door when someone looks out the window. Just knock already."  
_  
Taylor grunted in irritation, but it did make it easier to knock. After a handful of seconds, she heard footsteps approaching the door.

"Who is this? What do you... _Taylor?_ "

The door unlocked and swung open, and Taylor was face to face with her dad for the first time in a month. After staring for a few more seconds, he stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. Not that long ago, Taylor would've found it crushing. Then again...

 _It's been so long.  
_  
After a few moments, she pushed him back a little.

"Dad, I'm happy to see you, I really am, but can we get inside? It'd be better if nobody saw me."

Taylor didn't miss the sadness in his eyes as he realized what that meant, but he let her in and locked the door behind them anyway. They moved to the living room, though Taylor noticed several beer cans in the kitchen as she passed. As they settled down on the couch, Taylor began talking.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry I didn't come back for so long, but I couldn't risk someone seeing me. I... I didn't want to..."

"Didn't want to make things worse for me? Is that why you didn't tell me about Emma?" As Danny said that, Taylor felt him trying to keep his temper in check.

"I didn't mean to - wait, how did you find out?"

"When the PRT came to search the house, they found your journal. Why, Taylor? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I... You still hadn't pulled yourself together when it started. And afterwards, it was just... the longer I kept it secret, the harder it was to come clean."

"...I see. I gave Alan a piece of my mind about that, but it doesn't matter now. What actually went down at Winslow that... that day?"

"Well, it started as soon as I arrived at school..."

Taylor went through her story, up until the part where she joined Webweaver's team. She didn't mention that Squealer had actually managed to hit her with the minigun, though.

"So that's why you joined them, then? Safety? They're not forcing you to work for them?" Taylor wasn't sure what Dad was feeling at that point. Hell, she still wasn't sure what she herself felt.

"They're not, though Webweaver seemed very convinced I'd do that well before I actually did - I'm not even sure if she actually planned it out or is just going _'I meant to do that'_. And I'm not doing this just for myself, Dad. I'm an outed cape, remember? People might try to get to me through you. Just... be careful, please? And if something happens, if you see someone suspicious following you, if anything at all seems off, please, call me." Taylor grabbed pen and paper from the table and wrote down her number while she was talking.

Danny looked grim at that. Fleur's death had shaken the Bay in its time.

"I will, Taylor. But please, be careful. And... don't trust them, okay?"

Chuckling came in over the earbud. _"I heard that!"_ , Jennifer chimed in mirthfully. _Damn.  
_  
"I... should probably have mentioned that Webweaver's keeping a look out on the entire street, that's how I know nobody saw me arrive. She, ah, heard that."

Taylor felt her father getting angry again. He spoke in a carefully even tone.

"Webweaver, if you hear me, then I have this to say - if you get my daughter hurt, no bugs will save you. Am I clear?"

This time the earbud rang in sincere, uninhibited laughter. A few long moments after Taylor started wondering when Jennifer would stop for breath, she calmed down. _"Crystal. I see where you got your temper, Taylor. Anyway, I think you'd get a good opening to leave in a few minutes."  
_  
Taylor turned to her dad, who had been curiously looking at her expression during Jennifer's fit.

"She understands. But it's time to go, I think."

"If you have to, Taylor. But please. Come back. I can't lose you too."

"You won't." As she hugged her father goodbye, Taylor hoped she was telling the truth.


	15. Chapter 15

**February 7th, 2011 - Monday  
Afternoon  
**  
 _We've got a job to discuss. Dynamic's picking you up in an hour.  
_  
Taylor put her phone back in her pocket and turned towards the market's exit. She could make it back to her apartment with about ten minutes to spare, if she kept a pace that wouldn't draw attention. _Shame I didn't get to eat, though.  
_  
Dynamic was his usual quiet self, and the ride passed without attempts at small talk by either of them. When they stepped into the warehouse's office, neither Jennifer nor Cameron were in costume. _Not moving out soon, then?_

"Good, you two are here. Lim's almost here too, he just got into my range. We'll start once he's here."

True to her word, Lim showed up a few minutes later. He nodded to everyone in turn.

"So what's the job that has you so excited, Jen?" Cameron asked once that was done.

"One of our colleagues, Blueblood, has been outbid in a black market auction by a Brockton Bay villain, Coil. The cargo's due to arrive in Brockton Bay early tomorrow morning - we're getting fifty grand each if we intercept the trucks and bring the cargo to a local long-distance driver Blueblood hired."

"What's the cargo?" Martin asked. _Figures the Tinker would be most interested._

"Tinkertech laser weaponry, Coil's presumably arming his mercenaries - the man has no capes working for him that we know of, and is a Thinker of some sort himself as far as we can tell, so he's going to feel the sting if we steal it. This also means no cape escort for the cargo - Blueblood's betting another fifty thousand on no guards at all to try making the truck as inconspicuous as possible. Any more questions?"

Taylor raised a hand.

"This isn't a classroom, Taylor. Out with it."

"Fifty grand each. I know it's Tinkertech lasers, but are they really worth that much?"

Lim picked that moment to cut in.

"If the name doesn't give it away, Blueblood has a bit of an ego problem even by Thinker standards. He's probably more interested in making sure Coil doesn't get the stuff at this point than getting his hands on it himself."

"...And the guy who'll throw away a quarter million out of spite is allowed to have that much money under his care... why, exactly?" Cameron questioned suspiciously.

"Because he's already raking in the kind of money I'll be making if I can convince Parian to work with us, that's why," Jennifer answered with a smirk.

Her phrasing caught Taylor's attention.

" _If_ you convince Parian? You didn't seem to doubt whether you'll get me on board even after I refused the first time, Jennifer."

Jennifer shrugged.

"Your only options were join us or get out of the city. You had already made enemies, and crook hunting was bound to make more. Parian's managed to remain neutral for long enough that she won't join us unless we can prove we're strong enough that it doesn't make her a target, and even then it's just getting a chance to convince her instead of getting rejected immediately. Any more questions?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Alright then, let's call a vote. Everyone in?"

Four hands in the air. Jennifer smiled.

"Excellent. Now, here's what we know about the route the truck will take..."

~o~o~o~

 **February 8th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Early Morning  
**  
Taylor, Vortex and Jigsaw were hiding out in an alleyway closest to a stoplight the truck would have to pass. Dynamic had come earlier in road worker clothes to mess with the stoplight, and was changing into his costume behind a corner. The morning rush wouldn't start for at least half an hour, so only a few cars had passed, and with Webweaver on the lookout through her bugs they hadn't been seen. The earbuds crackled to life.

 _"Truck incoming. Get ready to move. Eris, do the honors."  
_  
Taylor pressed the button on a remote Dynamic had given her just in case the truck showed up while he was still getting in costume. As the truck passed the opening of the alleyway, it started slowing down thanks to the rigged stoplight turning red.

Then Taylor grabbed Jigsaw's hand again and ran towards the truck. When she stepped next to the driver's side door, the man was startled, but before he could think to hit the gas, she _pushed_ anger into him. He grabbed the door and swung it open, and Taylor let go of his mind while tossing Jigsaw's hand past the driver's head into the passenger seat. Jigsaw reappeared and pressed the stun gun to the man's neck.

"Nice and quiet. We don't need to hurt you, we're just taking the truck."

The man nodded.

"Phone and keys," Taylor said and raised her hand. The man quietly put them in her hand.

"Now climb out."

As the man climbed down and turned his back to Taylor, a gold widow jumped on him and bit. The man yelled.

 _ **"There's no need to panic. You'll pass out a few minutes from now, and wake about fifteen minutes later. There should be a comfortable and hidden enough spot in the alleyway,"**_ Webweaver calmly stated, backed by the voice of her swarm. Dynamic and Vortex were following behind her. The man didn't seem convinced, and collapsed.

"...Oh. Might've overdone the intimidation angle there. Check his pulse, someone?"

Vortex crouched to put her fingers on the man's neck, and nodded after about ten seconds.

"Pulse is fine, he just fainted. Eris, put him behind the dumpster in the alley while we check things out here?"

Taylor did so, checking the man's breathing as she set him down. He seemed to be breathing fine, so he'll probably be fine if no criminals find him while he's out. _No_ _ **other**_ _criminals, at least...  
_  
As she got into the truck's back with Webweaver and Vortex (Dynamic had taken the driver's seat again, hiding his costume under a heavy jacket), Jigsaw jumped in and closed the door, having exchanged the truck's rear license plate with a fake.

"Well, that was easy. Now just to get paid," he said cheerfully.

It was then that Taylor learned both Webweaver and Vortex could glare through face-concealing masks. Pinned by their gazes, Jigsaw visibly gulped.

"Never, _ever_ , use the words 'too easy', 'too quiet', or 'what could go wrong' on the job. Are we clear?" Webweaver ground out through gritted teeth.

~o~o~o~

 **February 8th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Morning  
**  
They managed to cross most of the city without incident and were just under a block away from their destination when Webweaver's tapping fingers suddenly stopped. She pressed a button hidden on her helmet, near her ear, and spoke.

"Dynamic, pull over. I think there's company waiting for us."

He seemed to hear her, since the truck came to a stop nearby.

"What have you got, Web?"

"More people than should be here before working hours. Don't distract me, if they're really here to ambush us and know who we are, having bugs just fly at them might tip them off." Taylor could almost _hear_ the frown in her voice. After a few tense moments, Webweaver cursed under her breath.

"Assault and Battery. Assault's examining the truck, Battery's talking to the driver - they'll figure out he was here for our special delivery soon enough, if they haven't already. Then the whole thing's a bust. We hit them fast, but make sure you don't cause too much damage - they have Panacea, but excessive force against heroes is _still_ likely to bring down more heat than necessary. Jigsaw, leave a piece behind in the truck, just in case. Let's move. _Quietly_."

"I blame you for this, Jigsaw," Vortex whispered along the way. A glare from Webweaver shut her up.

Everyone got out of the truck and crept towards the truck depot, trying to avoid line of sight. When they finally got in range, Webweaver sent her gold widows in first to try and bite the heroes. Unfortunately, the driver noticed one of them before it reached Battery, and his panicked scream alerted the heroes. Both were outside the swarm's reach in a few seconds.

"Eris, Vortex, go after Battery. Keep her moving. Dynamic, Jigsaw, keep Assault busy, don't get taken down. I'll try to get bites on them both."

The team went after their assigned targets. Taylor interrupted Battery's charge with a surge of anger, and Vortex tripped the heroine with her field. Taylor pinned Battery to the ground as gold widows skittered across the pavement towards their target. When the first was less than a foot away, she was thrown into the air as Battery _jumped_ out from under her, and chased after Taylor, punching her straight in the stomach with the remains of her charge. The armor helped a little, but that merely meant the impact and subsequent landing felt like belly-flopping into water from too high up twice instead of a worse version of what Taylor would once expect to experience whenever Sophia was having a bad day at school. As Taylor leapt to her feet, she saw the heroine trapped in the center of Vortex's field, unable to leave it without being pulled back to the center.

After a few seconds of thrashing, Battery stopped struggling and seemed to be trying to save her energy. Another second later, Taylor realized the ruse.

"Vortex, watch ou-"

Battery dashed out of the field, and even if she had to expend most of her charge for it, the rest carried her far enough to reach Vortex. The following punch to the solar plexus and throw to the ground were done with seemingly human strength, but Vortex wasn't nearly as heavily armored as Taylor and was still dazed when the heroine readied a kick.

Taylor charged with a yell, getting Battery's attention for the split-second it took. Another burst of anger caused Battery to leave her target and go after Taylor again. Their anger having already nearly completely undone the effects of the last hits received, Taylor managed to grab Battery and toss her towards where another of Webweaver's swarms was approaching. A few widows jumped on the heroine and one of them managed to bite her exposed face. She shrieked and started frantically trying to knock them off, but the variety of insects Webweaver had called to the battlefield overwhelmed her in a few more seconds. The swarm's master chimed in over the earbuds.

 _"That should keep her distracted long enough. Eris, Jigsaw, switch targets."  
_  
Taylor turned to Assault while Jigsaw tossed his hand towards Battery and followed it. Dynamic was locked in melee with Assault, the kinetic rifle's broken halves on the ground a few feet away.

Dynamic was fast enough to dodge Assault's blows or block them with his gauntlets, but his return hits were having no effect. Taylor sent some rage Assault's way, and shouted at him.

"Lure him into the spiders!"

Assault was too angry to back off at that, but that still left Dynamic in close combat against a stronger and now angry opponent. At least he seemed to go along with the plan. However, a few feet away from the spiders, a red blur swooped in and solidified into a man in a red bodysuit with racing stripes. He shoved Dynamic towards Assault, tripping up his defense. Taylor managed to stop pushing anger through fast enough that Assault only settled for twisting Dynamic's shoulder and throwing him to the ground. The Tinker hit the ground with a loud groan.

 _"Velocity,"_ Webweaver reported through the earbuds. _"Enhanced speed, but the faster he goes, the weaker he is."_

Taylor saw Jigsaw in her peripheral vision. He spoke quietly.

"Battery's poisoned and tasered. It's just the two of them for now. Let's do this, Eris."


	16. Chapter 16

**February 8, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Morning  
**  
Taylor considered her two opponents. Assault's power was a good answer to her strength, but it wouldn't do much against Jigsaw's stun gun or any gold widows that got to him. Keeping him in place long enough to take advantage of that would be difficult with Velocity interfering, however. She glanced to the sides. Webweaver was gathering another swarm, encircling the battleground. Taylor's first guess was confirmed through the earbuds.

 _"They can both outrun my bugs. Hold on until I have enough to come from all directions."  
_  
Realizing that that plan could fall apart if the heroes caught on too early, Taylor raised her fists back into the fighting stance Dynamic had drilled into her and poked Velocity with her power. Assault was angry enough on his own after noticing Battery's unconscious form. He started walking towards her, while Velocity blurred forward, dodged around Taylor's attempt to hit him, and started hammering her back with his fists.

To no effect whatsoever. Between Taylor's armor, the two heroes' anger, Vortex and Dynamic trying to keep themselves angry and conscious while incapacitated (Lim had pointed that possibility out during one of the planning sessions), and his own power he simply didn't have the strength to move her even a hair's width. She backhanded him, he dodged backwards and stopped for a moment, shaking his head. Taylor felt his anger drain a bit, but before she could push him further with her power, his mistake caught up to him.

Vortex's field came into being around him, and even as he tried to outrun its formation he didn't quite get out in time. As he tripped, the field crawled over to him, dragging the hero in. He seemed to realize he couldn't break out a few seconds later.

Taylor looked towards Vortex. She was on her elbows and knees, struggling - and failing - to stand up, but when her mask met Taylor's eyes, she nodded and motioned her head towards Webweaver's swarm. The nearest portion of it broke off and headed towards the captured hero.

Taylor took that as her cue to help Jigsaw with Assault. The teenager had avoided getting pinned down by Assault for now, but he was visibly tiring. He'd slip up soon. As Taylor ran forwards to help, exactly that happened. The hero punched Jigsaw in the ribs and grabbed for his arm, but before he could complete the takedown, Jigsaw disappeared. As Assault looked around, confused, Taylor realized two things.

One, Jigsaw must have taken Webweaver's suggestion to leave a piece of him behind with the truck.

Two, one of his fingertips was on the ground in front of Assault. Taylor took the chance for what it was, and went after the hero.

Dodging his swing aimed at her head hadn't been difficult. She was fast, and he was angry enough that it cost him precision. When she followed with a kick to the ribs, his power negated most of the blow, and he grabbed her leg before she could pull it back. Webweaver caught on to the plan.

 _"Jigsaw, now!"  
_  
Her teammate reappeared from where his fingertip was and leapt at Assault, stun gun at the ready. The hero went down, and the bugs went in, Jigsaw giving him another jolt just to be certain.

 _"Seems we've pulled it off. Jigsaw, drive the truck in. Eris, help Vortex up."  
_  
Taylor did as instructed, and as Vortex stood up, she dismissed her field from around a now-unconscious Velocity. Putting an arm around Taylor's shoulder for support, she whispered in a pained voice.

"Fuck, my ribs hurt. It was stupid of me to leave her standing like that, should've tried to knock her around a bit so she can't charge up..."

As Taylor nodded, she heard a groan coming from where Dynamic was. Webweaver was kneeling next to him, hands around his dislocated shoulder.

"It's fine, it's fine. The fall didn't do you any favors, but I think I set it back in enough to last for the trip back to base. You'll probably have to avoid using that arm for a couple of weeks, but it'll work again, eventually. Now, up you go, we have to get moving."

Webweaver helped Dynamic up as Jigsaw drove the truck into the depot. Their driver came out of wherever he'd taken cover when the fight started.

"The job still on?"

"Change of plans," Webweaver answered. "Now that the heroes know about the cargo, it's too likely to be caught on the way out of the city. We're going to hold on to it for a little while while we figure out what to do next." Taylor felt an undercurrent of anger coming from Webweaver.

"I won't be able to drive if you..." The driver trailed off when Webweaver repeated her 'glare with an entirely covered face' act for the second time in as many hours.

 ** _"Listen to me very carefully now. Your ineptitude got two of my subordinates injured and completely derailed the operation. The only reason I'm letting you walk away from this without setting my swarm on you is because you didn't tell the heroes anything useful while I was listening. You will give us the getaway car's keys, then walk away and forget you were ever offered the job. Remember I can reconsider my opinion. Do I make myself clear?"_**

Every bug in sight buzzed along with her. The man shrank back, getting more terrified with every sentence and every path he found blocked by bugs. Taylor noted that the anger once coming from Webweaver was now flowing through every last insect in a block radius, tiny motes of fury she wouldn't have noticed individually if the largest swarms hadn't caught her attention.

"Y-Yes, ma'am! I'll - I'll keep quiet!" the man stuttered out, fumbling the keys and dropping them on the ground before appearing to spontaneously manifest a Mover ability when the swarm cleared a path for him to exit through.

Jigsaw got out of the truck and walked over.

"So what's the new plan, boss?"

"Take the truck to one of the garages near our warehouse. I'm dropping Dynamic off at his place - would you mind staying there for a day or two? I think I set his arm back in properly, but it would be better for him to not be on his own for a couple of days, just in case there's complications."

"Sure thing, boss."

"And take what's left of his gun with you. No need to let Armsmaster poke at it. Eris, Vortex, I'll drop you off at your places along the way to Dynamic's."

They drove off, Taylor and Jennifer hiding their costumes under heavy jackets, Vortex laying down across the back seat. Jennifer's mouth was moving in soundless curses for most of the trip.

~o~o~o~

 **February 12th, 2011 - Saturday  
Afternoon  
**  
 _"Managed to deal with the cargo. Meeting at 5 PM - Vortex will pick you up for it."_

One hour of uneventful waiting later, Taylor was getting in the car with Cameron.

"Heya, Taylor. Sounds like we're finally getting paid, huh?"

"We'd better be. We've sure gone through enough trouble for it..." Taylor winced. "Sorry, that was insensitive. You guys were the ones that got hit, even if I'm the Brute..."

Cameron started the engine while waving her off.

"Don't worry about me, really. I got my share of bruises, but nothing that won't heal in a week or so, the pay will be worth the pain. Can't speak for Dynamic, though..."

"Yeah. How do you think Jen got the cargo to Blueblood, anyway?"

"Don't know. We'll have to ask her, won't we?"

As they drove out into the street, Cameron stopped talking to focus on the driving. When they arrived to the warehouse, they found themselves the last ones in. Jennifer greeted them, as usual.

"Right on time, girls. Come on, there's things we need to cover."

"Oh, there sure are. We did get paid for the job, right?"

Jennifer chuckled and turned the laptop on the table around. The screen proudly displayed an email.

 _From: Blueblood  
Subject: Tinkertech Delivery_

 _The shipment arrived this morning. While the delayed delivery and scaring the original driver I'd contracted into leaving the city is not appreciated, I understand complications happen in our line of work. The payment has been transferred to your account to distribute to your team as you see fit, minus the costs of removing the accessories and repainting the equipment to no longer look like Nerf guns.  
_  
Everybody cracked up within a few seconds of each other. Jennifer spoke again once the chuckling died down.

"I'll take the hit for that last one. Imagining the face he made when he saw the shipment is worth it. I've wired your shares to your bank accounts. Here's the details for your own, Taylor, including contact information. The Number Man does good work, if you can afford his services." Jen handed Taylor a slip of paper.

"Now, to answer the question you _should_ have asked first, Cameron," she continued in a false chiding tone, "Dynamic's arm seems fine. We won't have him on jobs for a few weeks, though, so we'll have to lay low. We'd normally do that anyway, considering an Endbringer attack is due in the next month, but now it's more than just a courtesy. Last thing to discuss - Coil. We suspected he's a Thinker already, and getting information straight from the PRT subtly can be done by any number of Thinker powers, but the fact we got ambushed by heroes is bad news. He'd have had to arrange an anonymous tip-off with little information or advance warning in a way that the heroes wouldn't get suspicious of a trap - at minimum, he has someone loyal to him high up in the ranks."

"Isn't that the PRT's problem, not ours?" Lim asked.

"A Thinker with an unknown power and spies everywhere will be everyone's problem soon enough. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he has moles in the other gangs - any of them that have henchmen. Which, unfortunately, will mean we'll have to hold off on recruiting our own until he's out of the picture - if we start recruiting now, spies will slip through."

"If he's employing ordinary mercenaries, he might have parahumans in his pocket too," Martin pointed out from the seat he'd taken.

"You're right. I want everyone looking into local villains, everyone who isn't one of the ABB or the Empire. See if anyone's been timing their crimes to match Coil's, didn't get into fights with him, or is a mercenary."

Taylor groaned. _Who thought villains still get homework?  
_  
"Lim, Martin, Cameron, you can go. Taylor, are you up for a spar?"

As the other three filtered out, Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure about that? Even if you're not angry, I'm not exactly at baseline human anymore..."

"Nor can I count on whoever gets past you and my bugs to be such. But your own strength is what I'm actually concerned about here."

"Hm?"

"You're holding back to not hurt people too much, and that's a good thing, but you never had to hide you're a cape since you were outed from the get-go. However, now that you've changed your look, your secret identity is a concern again. Brockton Bay's a dangerous enough place that someone might pick a fight with you out of costume, and it wouldn't do to blow your cover over some random thug."

Taylor nodded at that, and they both went to one of the rooms they'd converted to the women's changing room to grab the sports clothing kept there before moving on to the sparring room. Taylor held back for the first bout, and got tripped by Jennifer.

"You're holding back a little too much, I think. You can probably pull off more than that without stretching believability. You're tall for your age, and you've put on a little muscle since you've joined us. Hm, we didn't really test if you can still build muscle from exercising, did we? Some Brutes are unlucky like that, while some get muscular even without exercising. Maybe I'll have you come in early for the next training session."

They practiced for another hour or so until Jennifer was too tired to put up a real fight. Taylor had won most of the fights, even the ones where Webweaver didn't call her out for using too much of her strength.


	17. Chapter 17

**February 13th, 2011 - Sunday  
Early Morning**

 _"Ma'am?"_

"Fredericson. I'll need the PRT's files on every rogue and villain that's not a part of my team or the two major gangs. Get everything that won't blow your cover, and send it over."

 _"Yes, ma'am. How soon do you need it?"_

"You have a few days. I'll send you the address once we're done."

 _"And my payment?"_

"Two weeks' supply."

 _"Understood. Will that be all?"_

"Yes." Jennifer hung up and pulled out her phone's battery.

Sergeant Fredericson was a blessing and a curse. Transferred in from Chicago not long before she started making plans to move into the city, he was clever enough to hide his addiction to designer drugs brewed by one of Webweaver's former teammates a secret from the PRT, yet dumb enough to get himself in the situation to begin with. Jennifer couldn't quite figure out why he didn't refuse the transfer - paranoia about inviting investigation, perhaps? - but being separated from his dealers left a perfect gap for her to step into. Acting as an intermediary between dealer and customer in exchange for information was an acceptable stopgap measure while the genuinely loyal Elite plants worked their way up the ranks. Jennifer had no delusions about a drug addict's ability to stay out of trouble in the long-term, however.

The files he could get would be more detailed than what the Elite could get before moving into the city themselves, and certainly more detailed than the PHO threads and wiki entries she'd sent her team to trawl - she'd be _very_ surprised if any of them dug up something new, but only Lim had bothered to research the local capes without her say-so, and Taylor had some knowledge thanks to being a Brockton native. _Maybe the rest will do their research this time. One can only hope._

Phone call taken care of, she had to prepare for a meeting. Getting out of bed, she gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom while she ran her spiders over the cupboards in the kitchen, picking out breakfast. Nothing particularly interesting appeared in the cupboards overnight, so thirty minutes later she was shaking crumbs of toast into the garbage bin while wondering if she could find a toaster spiders could operate.

The ride to the team's base was uneventful until she got close enough to start checking in on her projects.

The gold widows weren't being modified, and the bodysuit they'd been ordered to weave was complete. She ordered assorted insects from one of the nearby crates to flood inside, animating the female mannequin the suit was wowen around and walking it out of the crate. The excess insects would be the spiders' breakfast, while the mannequin continued to the room she'd set aside for cleaning.

The second project would've looked disastrous at first glance. The three surviving tarantulas among the corpses of hundreds of their siblings were breathing through their brand new lungs - the first step in reworking their respiratory system to something that could let her match the giant insects of prehistoric times in a modern, less oxygenated atmosphere.

 _Don't get ahead of yourself, Jen. See how big these grow first, remember that scaling smaller insects to tarantula size had a dozen problems in the first generations._

Despite the rational part of her mind telling her not to get too excited yet, her imagination was already painting a picture of her riding into battle on a giant spider. _One day, Jennifer. One day.  
_  
She turned her attention to the last project, and found none of the insects that were supposed to be there, only a few strays that had gotten in while she was away.

The last project was contained in a metal crate, unlike the rest. Looking inside through the airholes while sending fireflies inside for illumination, Jennifer saw a scorched interior and a few chunks of ichor. _Well, at least I know the bombardier beetles_ _ **worked**_ _. Now, how to make them not explode off-schedule?_

Jennifer reached towards the beetle eggs in one of the nearby crates with her power, their biology taking shape in her mind before she caught herself. She didn't have _that_ much time before her meeting - even using mere handfuls of bugs each generation instead of the hundreds she normally used when creating new breeds, it would still take her hours to design them all, and she still had to clean up the suit. _Wouldn't do to offer a dirty gift._ Casting one last forlorn look at the bombed-out crate, she headed upstairs.

~o~o~o~

 **February 13th, 2011 - Sunday  
Afternoon  
**  
Jennifer parked her car behind the building. Normally, she'd conduct her meetings from a slightly safer distance, but this time a longer distance meant more risk of someone else seeing what they shouldn't.

As she walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk, keeping an eye out for any observers, her bugs moved the inner workings of the mannequin that once again wore the bodysuit she'd wowen, hidden under jeans, boots and hoodie. As it stood, Jennifer wondered about the possibilities of using them as decoys or to play off some people's phobias. If only it didn't take so much of her attention to control each one... _and Clockwork didn't charge more for each of these than an actual human body's market price_ , she thought grimly.

Once the mannequin was standing properly, she locked its leg joints, pulled a backpack out of the trunk, and put it on the mannequin. It carried more silk fabric and spooled thread to sweeten the deal. Then she sent it marching off towards the workshop where her bugs sensed a lot of cloth, a woman in a mask and a giant plushie bear.

The woman looked up from her notepad when she heard a knock on the door, checked her mask and went to open it. Only to freeze when she came face to face with the mannequin. Webweaver took that as her cue to speak up.

 ** _"Hello, Parian. I'm Webweaver, if you haven't guessed already. I have an offer for you,"_** the swarm vocalised all around Parian.

Webweaver saw Parian tense as if preparing to run, before she seemed to come to the correct conclusion that picking a fight or trying to kick the swarm out will not go far. The designer walked back to her table and took a seat, and Jennifer had the mannequin close the door behind itself before taking a seat next to her.

"I was worried something like this will happen when I heard you people were in town," Parian spoke, voice halfway between anger and resignation. "No independents in an Elite town, are there?" she added bitterly.

 _ **"Only those who have no use. But you, Parian? You're the kind of parahuman the Elite are for. There's a lot of profit to be made if you join - and your share would be well beyond what you can make on your own."  
**_  
Parian shook her head.

"And in return, I have to publicly associate with villains and join your fights? Money's not _that_ valuable."

 _ **"We can handle our own fights. The association doesn't need to be shouted to the world, but I won't deny anyone who cares to look will see it. You won't need to lay a finger on another person on our orders, this I can promise."  
**_  
"So you only want me to make clothes for you? That's it?" was the incredulous answer.

 ** _"Not just any clothes. Have a look."  
_**  
Webweaver made the mannequin work its arms out of the backpack's straps and hand it to Parian. The latter unzipped it, and looked inside.

 _ **"Web from my best spiders. More bulletproof than the people who'll wear it. You'd use this to make costumes for our capes on request, and assist with mass-producing undersuits if you're able. All for a share of the profits, of course, and a significant discount should you wish to purchase the silk for any of your personal use - as long as you carry out your obligations to us, you're free to pursue your own projects. This silk, the mannequin and everything it's wearing is yours whether you accept the deal or not - call it a taste of the benefits, if you wish."  
**_  
She could tell Parian was impressed, but her caution was still winning out.

"Impressive carrot, I'll admit. What's the stick?"

 _ **"Three of them, actually. One, you knew we'll come to recruit you. Others will figure it out as well, if they haven't already. I've heard the Empire has already attempted to recruit you? They'll only get worse as we get more established. You can't hold out on your own forever, and we can offer protection. Two, even if you don't join us... as you said, not many independents in Elite territories. People will still treat you as if you were with us - if you're with us, at least you're getting the benefits as well. The last reason's the most important, I think."**_

"What's that?" Parian asked warily.

 _ **"Most of the Elite will be keeping their heads down for the next few weeks. An Endbringer attack is due, and nobody wants to commit themselves to major moves yet, and even after that there will be a short break out of respect for the Truce. But once business is back to normal... There are several cities the Elite have sent teams to lay the groundwork. One of them will be the target of the next campaign. If it's Brockton's turn... you've heard of what happens when the Elite move in force. Somebody less gentle than myself will make a pass at recruiting you if you're still independent then - it'll be more unpleasant for you and less profitable for me if that happens. You have time to decide, Parian. But not forever."**_ With that, Webweaver withdrew her swarm, including the bugs animating the mannequin, and waited for the few good ones she picked up to make their way into the car's trunk before driving off.

~o~o~o~

 **February 14th, 2011 - Monday  
Evening  
**  
Webweaver's swarm deposited a small bag of white crystal in Fredericson's hand. The man placed the manilla folders in his other hand inside the swarm, where they were wrapped up and carried away. He withdrew his hand and shivered.

 ** _"That will be all, Sergeant. You may go."  
_**  
He took the dismissal for what it was and left with haste. Jennifer had her bugs examine the folder for the other kind of bugs before delivering it to her. The folders were thick - one concerning independents, the other three were far thicker and concerned the Bay's many villains. _Seems Freddy went above and beyond._ She fired up the engine, and decided to check on the Hebert house while she was at it anyway. Nobody had come threatening Danny, at least to her knowledge, but she didn't trust that to last.

Thirty minutes later, she pulled over just out of sight of the house, and started examining everything in her range with her insects.

The first thing she noticed was that the people in her range were somewhat _busier_ than usual. While spying on people naturally resulted in seeing more than she wanted to from time to time, it was still odd until she remembered the day. Jennifer chuckled and pulled her insects away from couples, singles, and a trio, checking through people who weren't celebrating the day. Nothing interesting in any apartments, and the cars in her range were all empty. She put the key back in the ignition while sweeping the rooftops with flies, and froze.

Bodysuit, heavy cloak, crossbows. _That_ was the edgy vigilante-turned-hero Shadow Stalker, no doubt. _So the heroes are keeping an eye on him again now that we've made more waves? Interesting, and might even discourage the rest from doing something stupid.  
_  
Shadow Stalker didn't have a line of sight to the car and the bugs didn't find anything or anyone else suspicious, so once the Ward seemed to get bored and left Jennifer started up the engine and headed back to her place. She idly wondered why they'd assign a Ward for a stakeout, but that wouldn't be strangest punishment duty she'd seen the PRT assign.

~o~o~o~

 **February 14th, 2011 - Monday  
Late Evening  
**  
Jennifer sat at her table and set Fredericson's folders down in front of her, steaming mug of coffee in her other hand. While going over them in detail was best done with her team, picking out key points now would be a good start. She went for the "independent" one first, just to get it out of the way. Two capes. Parian's file had nothing she hadn't researched before coming to the Bay, besides a few finer details on the Empire's attempts to recruit her. The other was of a yet-unnamed Brute vigilante potentially linked to a mysterious recovery in a hospital. _A recruitment opportunity for the future, perhaps.  
_  
The first of the three villain folders covered the Undersiders. Robbers, escape artists, a Thinker with an unknown power, they had the makings of a great future career if they didn't get in over their heads. Potential allies, but Jennifer was wary of hiring a team that almost outnumbered her own people. _On the other hand, they'll be prime recruits once the takeover begins._ She raised her mug to her lips.

The second folder had five more files. Circus, Coil, Uber and L33t, Whirlygig. Circus's file was a laundry list of minor crimes, Uber and L33t's was barely more informative than what they published on their own. Whirlygig was a newcomer - first sighting was after Jennifer arrived in the Bay - and the file had her involved in a few cases of robbery and vandalism. Coil's folder was disappointingly thin - she'd have expected the PRT to have more information on him. _Unless the absence of information is itself information. Could his insiders have enough reach to tamper with his own files?  
_  
Shaking her head, Jennifer set his file apart from the others, while placing Circus's and Whirlygig's next to the Brute's. _Thinkers inducing paranoia, as usual._ She reached out to the last file while taking another sip of her coffee.

It ended up all over said file.

 _Shadow Stalker._ _If Fredericson is playing tricks on me, I swear...  
_  
She wiped some of the coffee off the file with her sleeve and started reading. _Recruitment after getting too violent on a criminal, check. Unsanctioned patrols, check, toxic attitude towards fellow Wards, check._ The story seemed similar to some other recruited vigilantes Jennifer had heard of, and nothing explained her ending up as an "independent villain" despite the presumed threat of prison until she came close to the end of the file.

 _"Shadow Stalker was implicated in the Winslow trigger on 2011-01-03. The journal recovered from the house of the triggered parahuman, Taylor Hebert (cape name 'Eris') named her civilian identity as one of the primary perpetrators of an ongoing bullying campaign which resulted in the trigger. Shadow Stalker fled before she could be questioned."  
_  
The rest were sightings of the girl since then. Jennifer went over to her computer to type out a fresh copy of the Shadow Stalker file. _So Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity triggered Taylor, and is now spying on her father. Seems like we'll have to have a talk._


	18. Chapter 18

**February 15th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Morning  
**  
Taylor woke up to her work phone ringing. She blearily stared at the offending device, seeing Webweaver's name on its screen. She grudgingly picked it up.

"Web? That's earlier than your usual calls..."

 _"We've got a situation. Urgent meeting, I'm picking you up in thirty."  
_  
"Did Coil pull something?" Taylor asked, stumbling out of bed.

 _"I'm fairly certain he's not involved, as much as one can be certain of anything when dealing with Thinkers. Just get ready, it's urgent, but nothing's on fire. Yet."  
_  
She hung up on that encouraging note. Taylor grumbled and grabbed her clothes.

~o~o~o~

 **February 15th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Noon  
**  
When Taylor and Jennifer pulled over next to the warehouse, they ran into Cameron, Martin and Lim getting out of the car they'd arrived in. Martin's arm was still in a sling, which explained why he'd hitched a ride. On the way up the stairs, Jennifer started explaining.

"Remember when I told you guys to research local villains, see if anyone links to Coil? That was mostly so you guys would study up on the local capes, actually. If there was good intel to be found, the PRT would have had it. I got my hands on it yesterday, and decided to check on Taylor's dad on the way back."

Taylor froze, her mind starting to picture worst-case scenarios.

"Calm down, he's unharmed. He was, however, being spied on... by Shadow Stalker."

"The Ward, right? The edgy one?" Cameron asked while Jennifer unlocked the office door. They filed in.

"So I'd thought at first. But when I got back, I went through the files." Jen held up a manilla folder and opened it, near the end. She started reading from it.

"Shadow Stalker was implicated in the Winslow trigger on 2011-01-03. The journal recovered from the house of the triggered parahuman, Taylor Hebert (cape name 'Eris') named her civilian identity as one of the primary perpetrators of an ongoing bullying campaign which resulted in the trigger. Shadow Stalker fled before she could be questioned." Raising her eyes from the paper, she turned to face Taylor. "I presume you can guess who that is? The journal itself wasn't in the files at hand and her civilian identity was secured better than what I could get my hands on at such short notice, but there's only so many possibilities."

Taylor's blood boiled. _So this is why they got away with everything? Blackwell covering for her precious Ward? And the other heroes, did they know about her? And I was just an acceptable price to pay?  
_  
Taylor's train of thought was interrupted by the looks on everyone's faces. Apparently, her internal rant had become an external one at some point.

"I don't think they knew about _you_ , Taylor, even if they probably figured her for a troublemaker. This _could_ just be incompetence on their part."

"And that _excuses it_?" Taylor snapped back.

"Not at all. 'Better deal with a villain than a fool, for villains sometimes rest,'" Jennifer quoted.

"Said the career supervillain," Lim and Cameron responded almost simultaneously.

The exchange distracted Taylor from her anger enough that after a few deep breaths, she didn't feel like she's about to snap at someone. She spoke again.

"Yes, I know who she is. So after what she's done to me, she's now, what, stalking my father?"

"You'd know her better than I do, Taylor. Though if I were to guess, she's actually keeping an eye out for _you_. Either way, this presents us with a problem."

 _You're goddamn right it is a 'problem'.  
_  
"So what do we do? Sophia's a psychopath - if she gets frustrated enough about not finding me, she might take it out on Dad... you _did_ warn him, didn't you?"

Taylor noticed Martin tense up while she spoke. Jennifer shrugged.

"Good way to tip her off. And I agree that this has to be resolved fast. She wants to find you? I say we grant her wish."

~o~o~o~

 **February 15th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Evening  
**  
Taylor walked towards her home, doing her best to keep her trepidation out of her body language, trying not to look towards the bundle of anger on a nearby rooftop. She wasn't in costume, only in civilian clothes and a scarf wrapped high enough to hide her face below her nose. It wouldn't disguise her from someone who knew her and had a decent view, but that was the point. As she stepped into the streetlight's cone next to the house and lowered her scarf to reveal her face, she felt the anger spike further. _Apparently, angry_ _ **is**_ _her natural state._ A few steps from the door, the earbud crackled to life.

 _"She recognized you, I think. She's moving in for a closer look."  
_  
Taylor could tell that just fine with her own power, but she'd rather know too much about what Sophia's doing than not enough. She knocked on the door, and heard footsteps on the other side a few seconds later. The door flung open. Her dad looked at her, face unable to settle on an expression. Confused, surprised, concerned. Eventually he settled on "happy."

"Taylor! I wasn't expecting you to show up - you could have told me. Come in, come in..."

She did, looking around as they headed to the living room. The kitchen didn't have beer cans this time, and the place looked at least a little tidier. Outside...

 _"She's trying to sneak up to the house. Planning to eavesdrop, by the looks of it. Keep talking, I'll sneak the widows in."  
_  
"I'm glad to see you too, Dad. It's been... an eventful few days, as you've probably heard."

Danny gave a half-hearted smile at that.

"Yes, I heard some of the boys saying that the heroes got their asses kicked by someone new for a change. Did you really use Assault _as_ a weapon?"

...And Sophia apparently got an infinitesimal fraction less angry in her hiding spot between fence and bush. _Guess she didn't like the heroes any more than she likes anyone else. Figures.  
_  
"...No, I did not use him or anybody else as weapons that time. He was actually a pain to fight, Dynamic's arm is still in a sling. We pulled through, in the end."

Dad winced. _Maybe reminding him how dangerous my job is isn't the best idea... but depending on how this goes down, he might have to find out anyway.  
_  
"And... how do you feel about it, Taylor? They're _heroes_. You used to look up to them."

Taylor bit down on the _"used to"_ she wanted to snap with at first. After a breath to calm down, she answered.

"I'm not happy about it, I hope I'll never be, but it's either this, jail, or a life on the run. I can live with fighting them, and I don't plan to go too far against heroes." _Those who deserve the name, anyway._

 _"The bugs are in position. Ready?"  
_  
Taylor walked up to the window and partially opened it, pretending to take in fresh air. Sophia ducked lower to the ground, where she would not be seen... and would take a fraction of a second longer to get to her feet.

"I'll admit it, Dad. I'm not here to chat." Taylor raised her hand and poked a beetle hidden in her hair three times, raising the scarf back to cover her mouth again with the other. "I'm here because you were in danger," she finished, though she wasn't sure if her dad heard her - Sophia's furious scream drowned her voice out. She opened the window all the way and jumped through, coming face to face with her tormentor.

The crossbow's broadhead bolt glinted with reflected lamplight, and Taylor leapt to the side. It sailed past her and embedded itself in the wall next to the window. Danny took that as his cue to get back from the window. Taylor pulled out a stun gun, one of Lim's backups she'd borrowed for this. Learning about the weakness to electricity from Sophia's file was going to come in handy for this. Sophia started running, phasing straight through a fence, and Taylor gave chase, leaping over it a second later. Sophia looked back and realized that Taylor was faster than her now. She ran straight to the nearest house and phased into the wall, dodging Taylor's jab with the stun gun by mere inches.

"Fuck!" Taylor swore loudly. She noticed the houses' tenants looking at her through one of the windows. The father had his phone out - probably calling the PRT. She sensed Sophia in the middle of the house, probably trying to figure out which direction to escape in.

 _"Circle to the left. If she goes right and tries to escape to the sewers here, we have her."  
_  
When Taylor turned left and passed one of the windows, Sophia dashed out the opposite side and headed to the street. She ran right over the manhole cover without trying to phase down. _So much for that plan._ Taylor ran after her again. After turning a couple of corners, Sophia slowed down. A spike of anger was enough warning to leap back, another crossbow bolt piercing the air where Taylor would have stood had she kept running. The chase continued, but Sophia didn't quite pick up her previous speed. About half a block later, the earbud crackled again.

 _"You're outrunning me. Out of my range in twenty at this rate."  
_  
Sophia tried to shake Taylor off by phasing through another two buildings and taking another shot inbetween, but she was getting tired and the spider bites were kicking in. Sophia finally phased through the street and went into the sewers. Taylor found the nearest manhole cover and climbed down, stopping before coming in sight of where Sophia had stopped. She didn't know how many bolts the psycho carried, but "at least one more" seemed like a safe guess. After a few breaths' concentration, she leapt out of cover, jumping to the opposite wall, and a crossbow bolt flew by uselessly. Taylor ran up to Sophia and jabbed her with the stun gun, the ex-Ward's crossbows clattering to the floor next to her.

"Godddamn.. _cheater_... couldn't handle me on your own, could you?" Sophia spat out. Taylor couldn't believe her gall.

"You're one to talk. You were never on your own on Winslow either. Emma, Madison. Their cronies. The teachers. And now I find out it was the PRT too?"

"Heh. So you found it out, Hebert. What are you going to do now? You don't have the spine to kill me, you never did. Are you going to hand me to the heroes, like you did the Merchants? Running with villains that can't even deal with their own... enemies?" Sophia slurred the last bit, the widows' bites doing their work.

"The Merchants weren't enemies, Sophia. They were just a problem to be solved, and that was the best way to do it. But the PRT screwed up with you twice already. I don't want to find out they did so a third time by finding out you murdered my father to get at me."

Whatever answer Sophia would've had for that went unspoken, as the ketamine finally put her to sleep. Taylor started dragging her towards where Webweaver should be coming from. She left Sophia at the bottom of the ladder and climbed out, the crackle of the earbud confirming she had a signal again. Some bugs were gathering near her.

 _"I see you caught her, then. If you're having second thoughts..."  
_  
"No," Taylor lied. She wasn't okay with what was about to happen, but she wouldn't let anyone be a danger to her dad.

 _"Good, because I used a lethal dose back at your father's house. I'll have bugs dispose of the body, but that'll take a couple of hours. I'd advise against going home right after that commotion. Get moving and make sure you lose any tails, I'll call you when it's done."  
_  
Taylor did so, wandering the streets and avoiding people for a couple of hours until Jennifer called and picked her up. They didn't say a word to each other for the entire drive, and after crawling into bed Taylor took a long time to fall asleep despite being more tired than she ever remembered being.

She woke up more than a few times that night, seeing blood and dead eyes before her. Sometimes Sophia's. Once Madison's. But most often, her father's.


	19. Chapter 19

**February 20th, 2011 - Sunday  
Afternoon**

Martin fell back and held his hands in a "time out" gesture. Taylor unclenched her fists and let her own hands drop to her sides.

"I think that's enough for now. The shoulder's starting to ache," he commented, taking off his gauntlets.

"I'm still not sure why you're sparring already. It hasn't even been two weeks since you had it dislocated... that _can't_ be healed yet."

"It isn't - I really shouldn't get into close-quarters combat for another month or so _minimum_ , even with the gauntlets, but at least knowing how much of a fight I can put up... we won't always get to pick our battles. Don't worry, I know how much I can take." Martin's tone was matter-of-fact, as if the possibility of having to fight one-handed was about as daunting as the possibility of a foggy morning.

"If you say so. Guess I'll spar with Jennifer now?"

"Let her run those two through a couple more routines. Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Taylor answered. Though she wasn't sure if the reduced need for sleep was a blessing for letting her keep going on a few hours a night - even if she had fewer nightmares every time - or a curse for leaving her with more time trying to come up with something, anything she could've done that would've let her keep Dad safe without arranging for Sophia's death. She couldn't think of anything.

Martin seemed unimpressed by her answer.

"If you say so. It's probably a good sign that it bothers you. And you know your father's safe, which is more than some get."

 _That sounded personal._ Taylor figured it probably wouldn't hurt to ask, if only carefully.

"Is it okay if I ask? It sounded like personal experience."

"I didn't kill anyone, no. Just to make sure I'm not giving you the wrong idea. I meant family. Did you ever hear of Madison?"

Taylor kept the disgusted look off her face with some effort.

"I know a Madison, but I don't think we're talking about the same one. Wait, wasn't there a city..?"

"Wisconsin, yeah. Hit by the Simurgh a year ago. I grew up there - was out of town for a few days, driving a delivery truck. Then I hear about the attack, about the walls being built. I was halfway done rebuilding the truck into a battering ram by the time the Elite found me. They talked me out of the stupid plan, helped me figure out my powers, get back on my feet. Still don't know if my folks are alive in there... or if they wish they weren't."

Taylor didn't even want to imagine how that must've felt. _I shouldn't have asked..._

"I'm... sorry, for bringing that up."

"It's alright," Martin shook his head dismissively. "I can't say I'll ever be _fine_ with it, but I've had time to cope. And I'm glad to hear your father's safe, even if I couldn't help. Go, before Jen thinks you're slacking," he said with a sardonic smile. As she walked over to Jennifer, Taylor couldn't help but notice that that was the most words she'd gotten out of him in one day.

~o~o~o~

 **February 22nd, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Morning**

Taylor was woken up by her phone beeping. Picking it up, she found a text from Jennifer.

 _Parian is interested in a meeting. Be ready for pickup by 3._

 _Huh._ Taylor had heard of the rogue's staunch neutrality. She wondered about what could've brought this on, and booted up her laptop. PHO may not be the most reliable source of news, but if something big happened she'd half expect somebody to have posted about it even before running for safety.

A quick search proved her right. Apparently, Parian's workshop had been burned down yesterday. By _whom_ was another question, though the speculation was split between the Empire and the Elite. Since she was _fairly_ certain Parian wouldn't be coming to the meeting willingly if she suspected the Elite - and Jennifer wouldn't be bringing Taylor along if she was doing something like that - that made the Empire the more likely suspects. Taylor could sympathize with Parian - having to run from a place you'd thought safe was not a fun experience. With that question answered, she checked the discussion about the events of... _that night_. There were fewer posts about that, people wandering off to new subjects - the fact neither she nor Sophia had been unambiguously identified, at least by the public, meant the conversation never got real traction. Taylor wished she could apologize to her Dad for pulling that kind of a surprise on him and leaving him to explain things to the police, but Jennifer had warned against that - the PRT was likely to keep a closer eye on him for a while. Besides, she didn't feel ready to talk to him about what had happened.

She turned the laptop off and started making breakfast.

~o~o~o~

 **February 22nd, 2011 - Tuesday  
Afternoon**

"Just to be clear, you _didn't_ do it?" Taylor asked Jennifer, getting into the passenger seat. The villainess grinned.

"Hi to you too. And no, burning buildings down is far too gauche for me. If I had decided to put her out of business, I'd set the bureaucracy on her. As dumb an idea as NEPEA-5 was, it does wonders for our recruiting. It's basically impossible to run a business without there being _some_ technicality to get hooked on, but most of what's on the books doesn't get enforced unless someone has an agenda. It would not surprise me in the slightest if that's exactly why they even exist." She sounded disdainful as she got the car moving again.

"Any idea who did it, then?"

"Empire, if I had to guess. They've been trying to recruit her for a while, seems they didn't want to hear another 'no.' I have to say, I love this city - it's like it was just waiting for one sane villain. Speaking of which, Parian wanted to meet you."

Taylor eyed Jennifer dubiously. There was only one train of thought she could see connecting the two statements.

"You're the most infamous of us, at least locally. She said she wanted to see what kind of a person you really are, not what the tabloids write, so I'm bringing you along. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure she's not planning to ask you out."

By the time Taylor stopped sputtering, they had reached one of the major streets. Not wanting to distract Jennifer from driving, Taylor kept quiet unti the warehouse, where they'd changed into costumes and swapped the car's license plates.

~o~o~o~

 **February 22nd, 2011 - Tuesday  
Afternoon**

The meeting spot was not far from the Boardwalk, in one of the stores that have been abandoned with the Bay's economic decline. A cloth monkey poked its head out a window and waved at them, and the pair entered to meet Parian. She was flanked by two large cloth constructs, both taller than herself - a gorilla and a tiger.

"Hello, Parian. Have you reconsidered my offer?" Webweaver greeted the doll-like woman. She didn't use the swarm to back her voice this time, Taylor noticed. Parian seemed to be nervous enough already.

"I'm on the fence about it, but... I can't run the business on my own after that. Too much of my stock burned, I'm neck deep in debt. Nobody else in this city would be willing to invest when the Empire can come after me again. And I can't exactly make myself too hard to find without making it impossible to actually sell things," she finished with a dejected note.

"The PRT aren't looking for a new costume designer? I am quite certain you'd have asked them before you came to us."

"...They're not offering enough. The paycheck, I could live off, pay back my debt eventually, but it would take too long to start over. Unless I go on patrols for them and earn hazard pay, that is."

"Which was, of course, a ploy to get you as another body in the streets. We can pay you what you're worth, Parian. As for the Empire... We can protect you, of course, but that will mean our association won't remain secret for long. Are you willing to take the risk?"

"They... might actually know already, I think. I was working on the silk threads you gave me when I got the call, Alabaster may have ended up tied to a lamppost with them..."

Taylor couldn't help but chuckle. _I'd feel sorry for him by now, if he wasn't a Nazi._

"Oh, right. Eris. I did say I wanted to talk to you. Can you come closer, please?"

Taylor looked at Webweaver. The latter nodded. Taylor walked forward, until she was a couple of feet away from Parian. The doll-like mask was turned to face her. The other woman was looking her straight in the eyes, though there was tension in her stance.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but this is something I have to be sure about. I'm... I'm not blaming you for what happened at Winslow. I know the official story isn't the whole truth, and that getting powers isn't easy. But please, answer honestly. The people who got hurt... Do you _care_?"

"...Yes," Taylor answered, after a moment to get over the surprise of the directness of the question. She hadn't lost sleep over them in a long time, but she didn't forget. Sophia had been... easier, in a way. She had made her choice, while most of the people at Winslow simply _didn't_ choose.

Parian studied her eyes for what seemed like forever.

"Okay," she finally breathed out, relaxing slightly. "I'm in."

"One moment," Webweaver responded. "What was that about a call?"

"...Oh. This is embarrassing. I got a call, a few minutes before the Empire arrived. Warning that they were coming. The guy on the other end called himself Coil, said that the only thing he asks in exchange for the rescue is that I tell you he wants a meeting. Somer's Rock, tomorrow at six."

"Call him back and tell him we'll be there. Now, let's work out the specifics..."

Taylor zoned out as Parian and Webweaver went on to discuss their deal. Once that was done, they parted ways. Back at the car, Webweaver pulled out her phone.

"We'll have to talk to everyone about that meeting. Sorry, Eris, it seems it'll be a few more hours before I can take you back to your place," she said, while typing out a message to the rest of the team.

"It's no problem. I had nothing planned after all," Taylor answered, glad that she'd decided to have a solid meal before leaving.

~o~o~o~

 **February 22nd, 2011 - Tuesday  
Evening**

"Not that I'm not happy to see everyone, but what's the occasion this time, boss? Another job?" Cameron asked from where she'd been laying across a row of chairs when Taylor and Jennifer walked in. Lim and Martin were discussing something, but quieted down at their entrance.

"Perhaps, but unlikely. In fact, I think we're going to be discussing the last one again, though with someone else for a change. Coil called for a meeting tomorrow, at Somer's Rock. It's apparently the local villain bar - not the kind of place where most villains would be willing to start trouble, but there's no reason to be dumb about it. The meeting's at six, so plan your day around that."

"You think he's going to ask for his stuff back?" Cameron snorted.

"He loses far too much face if he tries that. No, this is something else. Are we certain this isn't a trap?" Lim asked suspiciously.

"Starting trouble in truce zones is typically frowned upon," Jennifer explained. "Of course, we're not locals, so the others might overlook things if he does get rid of us. Or take that as pretext to move against him while getting good PR. Which is why Lim and Martin will be keeping watch outside, just in case."

The two nodded.

"We're pretty sure he's a Thinker, right? Could he be trying to gather information on us?" Taylor asked.

Jennifer shrugged.

"Even if he wasn't, he'd be trying to. Anything more than that... keep an eye out to see if there's any clues to his power, but you can only plan so much against an unknown. Now," she opened a drawer and pulled out the files that had been left there since the planning session for dealing with Sophia, "we still haven't gone through the independents of the town. The Brute, Circus, Uber and L33t, Whirlygig, the Undersiders. Let's see who could be working for whom, shall we?"

After thirty minutes of going through the files with a fine-toothed comb, they'd decided the Brute _probably_ wasn't on Coil's payroll.


	20. Chapter 20

**February 23rd, 2011 - Wednesday  
Evening  
**  
Taylor drummed her fingers against her leg as the car pulled over not far from Somer's Rock. Webweaver was driving, with Vortex riding shotgun. As the three unfastened their seatbelts, Webweaver spoke up.

"The boys are almost in position. Coil's inside, seems to have brought a couple of mercenaries as insurance. Everyone ready?"

Taylor and Vortex both nodded. The three walked over to the pub and went inside. They were greeted by a dim, grey room and a man in a black bodysuit with a serpent's image on it, winding around his body from one of the man's legs to his head. Two mercenaries flanked him.

"Coil," Webweaver greeted him, taking the opposite seat. Taylor sat down to her left, Vortex to her right.

"Webweaver. Timed it to the second, I see." Coil's voice was smooth, calm. _He's playing the chessmaster image so straight it's almost funny._ Though Taylor wasn't sure the timing was deliberate. A waitress approached, but was waved off by Coil and Webweaver simultaneously.

"I doubt you arranged the meeting to exchange pleasantries. You would've done that sooner if it was the case. What is it you wish to discuss?"

Taylor picked up a minor pang of irritation from him, but it was quickly quashed. There was no outward reaction visible through his costume, even if she could count his individual ribs through the tight fabric.

"Very well. I am here to propose an alliance. I am aware of both the Elite's traditional methods and goals, and it would serve us both to avoid future... misunderstandings. Our interests are different enough to make conflict wasteful, after all."

"That depends on what your interests are, doesn't it? Protection rackets, smuggling, drugs and mercenary work are the obvious ones and we don't intend to compete over those, but that isn't everything. You're aiming higher than that. Politics?"

"You are correct. If I'm judging correctly, your own cell is mostly aiming for mercenary work and security?"

"For now. Future plans depend on the Elite as a whole, as you probably know. We'll be recruiting more parahumans to that end, but divided loyalties are more of a hassle than they're worth. Am I correct in guessing Circus is in your employ?"

Taylor could tell Coil _did not_ like that last remark, despite his unflappable attitude. Under the table, she tapped the spider Webweaver had sent to perch on her right leg.

"I suspected as much. You can keep her. We'll be looking for recruits elsewhere," Webweaver continued on, leaving almost no pause after the previous question.

The snake-themed villain relaxed at that. Taylor tapped the spider's sibling on her left leg.

"I suppose there isn't much point arguing over who recruits the other independents. Let them side with the best offer?" Coil asked.

"They would do so already. As for the 'misunderstandings', as you called them, I doubt you'd offer the information on your operations we'd need to be certain we're not targeting you?"

"Definitely not."

"I expected as much. Unfortunately, that does mean we can only promise not to target what we know to be yours."

Coil shrugged.

"The price of secrecy, it seems. So you accept, then?"

"Yes." Webweaver reached across the table and shook hands with Coil. They stood up, Taylor and Vortex following a moment later. Everyone left the pub, heading back to their cars. Once they got in their seats, Webweaver spoke up.

"Coil got upset when we mentioned Circus as his, but calmed down when we mentioned we're going to recruit others, right Eris?"

"Yes, he did. Think he's planning something?" Taylor answered, buckling up.

"From the impression I got in there? If he's still breathing, he's planning something. In this particular case, I suspect he might try to bribe an independent to join us as a spy. Keep the possibility in mind when we're dealing with our future recruits, but don't let it slip that you suspect them."

She started the engine and drove off, beating the guys to the warehouse by a few minutes. She told them about the meeting, and drove Taylor to her flat.

~o~o~o~

 **February 24th, 2011 - Thursday  
Late Morning  
**  
Taylor was woken up by a text message on her phone. It was from Jennifer, again.

 _Simurgh attacking Canberra. Keep heads down, no jobs for a few days until Truce ends and the higher-ups decide on whether Brockton Bay is the next in line for takeover.  
_  
Taylor's feelings were mixed. The Simurgh was perhaps the most terrifying of the Endbringers, and her hitting a capital of a large country was a disaster, but... it would've happened soon enough to _somebody_ , and at least this time Ziz was on the opposite side of the planet from her.

Her musings were interrupted by another message. The last one had presumably been sent to the whole team, but this one was personal.

 _If there's a least likely time for heroes to pull something when you visit your father, today's the day. I can give you a ride once he's back from work, if you want?  
_  
Taylor's fingers only hesitated a few moments above the keys. She owed Dad an explanation, and frankly, she needed to talk to _someone_ that wasn't a supervillain these days.

 _Yes._

~o~o~o~

 **February 24th, 2011 - Thursday  
Late Afternoon**

"All clear. Go," Jennifer said, and Taylor got out of the car and headed towards her house. Her dad was once again quick to open the door and usher her in after she knocked on the door. As soon as the lock clicked, he wrapped her in a hug.

"Taylor! I'm glad to see you're okay. What happened back then?"

"I'm fine, Dad, I'm fine. Better you sit down for this, though," she spoke, hugging him back briefly before letting go. A shadow of a concerned frown passed through Danny's face briefly before he sat down.

"First, you'll have to keep what I tell you quiet, okay? It could end very badly for me, my team and you if you mention it to anyone."

"Of course, Taylor. Besides, I'm pretty sure the PRT are done asking me about that - not like I told them anything useful anyway. I just heard a scream coming from outside while airing the house out and saw two people running off in the dark, after all," he smiled.

"You think they believed that?"

"Even if they didn't, they can't really do much unless they can prove at least _some_ actual crime was committed beyond causing a disturbance at night," he shrugged. "...They won't prove anything, will they?"

Taylor noticed he didn't ask if no crime was committed. _Even if he's not wrong..._

"I... This will need a bit of context, Dad. You know about the journal, right?"

Danny gritted his teeth. "Yes."

"Well, when the PRT got their hands on it... apparently one of the main bullies was one of their Wards. Shadow Stalker."

Taylor waited a bit for Danny's litany of invectives to end. Taylor almost felt like she could _see_ him glowing with anger. _Did I look like that when I found out?  
_  
It wasn't as powerful as the rage she felt when the students of Winslow tore into each other, or when she turned the Merchants attacking her back at the ferry station on themselves what seemed like a lifetime ago, but this was no power's work. Only a father finding out why his daughter got hurt.

Taylor remembered the last time she saw someone that exact kind of angry. Assault was like that when he saw they'd taken down Battery. _They really do care about each other,_ Taylor thought, guilt gnawing at her.

When he finally regained some measure of composure, Danny spoke again, this time in a dangerously calm tone that wouldn't have been convincing even if her power wasn't so eagerly telling her the truth.

"Is that why they got away with everything?"

"Maybe. I think most of the staff is actually just that incompetent, though. Anyway, when they found out, they apparently wanted to bring her in for questioning, but she ran for it. The day before... my last visit, Webweaver caught her snooping around here."

"Wait, she's been spying on me?"

 _ **"Only for your protection, Mr Hebert. Even if trying to coerce a cape by targeting their family is foolish, that's no excuse to get careless. Not everyone sees things my way, after all."  
**_ _  
Well, we could've done without the reminder that she's listening in.  
_  
"So... yeah. If she's not working for the PRT, we figured she's keeping an eye on you to try to get to me. And she's a psycho, Dad. I was worried if she couldn't get me, she'd go after you. I... I couldn't stand the thought of that happening, Dad."

Danny's face was unreadable.

"Taylor? What did you do?"

"I... She won't come after us again, Dad. Never again." She closed her eyes, feeling her dad get angry again.

The silence was deafening for a few seconds. Then she heard a rustle of cloth.

She was wrapped in a hug and held _tight_.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that until he let go.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Taylor. Dammit, I'm your father, _I_ should still be protecting _you_..."

Taylor didn't answer.

"I know I can't fight for you, Taylor. I know I can't advise you about being a cape. But I still love you, little owl. Always."

They stayed like that for a while longer, both slowly calming down, until Taylor decided it was time to go. Saying goodbye, she waited for Jennifer's all-clear and headed back to the car. The villainess had a somber expression on her face.

"Let's just go," Taylor said. Jennifer nodded and they drove off without a word.


	21. Chapter 21

**March 1st, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
"Two on one? Really?"

Taylor glared at Jennifer from across the training mat. The blonde wasn't even slightly bothered by it as she leaned back against the wall. She was still in her street clothes.

"Sure. People won't give you one-on-one fights all the time, especially when the other side has a numbers advantage. Oh, and before you decide to hit one of your teammates with the other, remember one of them will have to drive you home," Jennifer replied with a smirk.

"That was _one time!_ "

"And the video was at 100,000 views the last time I checked. You're not living that one down, Taylor," Lim pointed out.

"Come on, no ganging up on the poor girl. Save that for the mat!" Cameron cut in. Lim rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I'm going with Martin to check out a new recruit. Not bringing him here just yet, though. Haven't been able to dig anything up on him so he's probably a fresh trigger, but I'd rather verify that first," Jennifer explained. Taylor remembered the woman's concerns about Coil trying to sneak a spy in.

"Martin's not much of a people person. Picking up a second Tinker already, are we?" Cameron asked curiously.

"Or a third one, depending on your definitions. I'm hoping he can figure out how long the boy had his powers after they go crazy on the worskhop a couple of times. Wrangling two Tinkers will be much more _entertaining_ than one," Jennifer chuckled, before grabbing her car keys and walking out with a cheerful wave.

The three decided to go through a no-powers routine first for warmup. After thirty minutes they'd decided there was no way yet Taylor could win such a fight against opponents that had any idea what they're doing without outing herself. After a break to let her non-Brute teammates catch their breaths, they prepared for the next round, where Taylor's goal was to try and pin at least one of the two down without getting jabbed by the prop stun guns the two had brought out from somewhere. The use of real ones was vetoed in case Taylor ended up twitching the wrong way with her hands already on one of them.

The three took up positions at the corners of the mat, Lim to Taylor's left, Cameron to the right. Taylor tried to decide who to target as she tried to work herself up with memories of Winslow. Cameron was easier to pin down, but Lim was more mobile and would be right at her back if she got distracted.

She feinted a lunge towards Cameron, and the woman stepped back, catching a finger Lim threw her way with her spare hand and putting it behind her back. Taylor noted she fumbled it a bit, and advanced at a slower pace, watching Lim trying to circle around her back, but after a few more steps he went out of sight.

 _One. Two...  
_  
She ducked right before the "three", and Lim's weapon went over her head. Taylor slammed into him, then charged Cameron while he was picking himself up off the ground. She dodged around Cameron's swing and grabbed her weapon arm, twisting it and tripping the woman. Cameron hit the mat, and Taylor started counting.

"One."

Lim reappeared from the finger that Cameron had dropped and leapt at her. She managed to grab him by the wrist.

"Two."

The hand split off, and Lim caught it with his other one and jabbed her forearm with the stun gun held in it before she could finish the "Three." Taylor released her grip on Cameron's hand, and the two helped her up.

"Can't pin you down, can I?" she addressed Lim.

"And you're the Brute in close quarters combat. Powers aren't fair, are they?" he answered.

"At least you two can use yours without needing space," Cameron complained.

They went a few more rounds before calling it a day. Taylor didn't quite manage to win any round, though she almost managed to get Lim once. Cameron decided to pin what she'd called "chauffeur duty" on Lim, who turned out not to know where Taylor's flat was. They managed to find it in the end, though.

~o~o~o~

 **March 4th, 2011 - Friday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
 _The bigwigs decided to cement their hold on NY. We're on our own for a few weeks, at least.  
_  
Taylor put her phone back in her pocket. She supposed it was good news, in a way. The Elite coming down on Brockton Bay would be the death of the old gangs, and from what she'd found while researching the people she worked with, they'd certainly be an improvement... but Taylor doubted either the ABB or the Empire would go down easily. _No, it would be a war.  
_  
She continued down Lord's Market. It was late enough that most people from Winslow would already be leaving, so she didn't particularly worry about running into someone who knew her. She skipped past a few higher-end clothing stores the kind of which she'd expect see Emma shopping at, and went into one of the cheaper ones. After all, even if she didn't go through clothes nearly as quickly now that she had a bullet-resistant costume, she _had_ left Winslow with only what she wore on her back. Getting more than a couple spares would be nice. Even if she wasn't going to follow Cameron's fashion advice, thank you very much. Not looking like you're trying to hide? Taylor could see the logic in that. But the woman didn't even consider stopping there. _Let's hope she forgets her promise to drag me out shopping.  
_  
After some debating, she picked out a few pairs of jeans, several shirts and a jacket. The jacket was quite a find - navy blue on the outside, forest green on the inside, and apart from the color looked the same either way. Taylor was fairly certain that she could switch sides in seconds with some practice without even having to stop walking. The clothes were more expensive than what she'd gone for in high school, but not by much.

She paused for a moment when she noticed the past tense she'd thought in. Even if she knew she wasn't coming back to Winslow ever again - not that she'd have wanted to if she _could_ \- she'd been concerned enough with the day-to-day that the fact it also meant her plan to survive Winslow and move on to college was as good as over. _Mom would be so disappointed. At least she'd probably be more mad at Emma - the bitch was almost as much a daughter to her as she was a sister to me.  
_  
The irony in Fugly Bob's coming within sight moments after she'd thought about being a high school dropout wasn't lost on Taylor. _I guess at least I'm flipping Nazis, not burgers._ Her chuckle caused one of the passers-by to give her the stink-eye.

Taylor figured that was as good a place as any to get dinner. As she started paying attention to what's around her instead of her own thoughts, she noticed that one of the people sitting at a table was in about as foul a mood as Sophia had been when staking out her home. There were four people there, two girls and two guys. The angry girl was a freckled brunette that looked like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was so obviously Taylor could see it even though she was still a good forty feet away, the tan, dark-haired boy next to her seemed painfully aware of it, the handsome blond guy opposite the two had a mostly neutral expression, and the blonde next to him... Taylor shook her head. She felt _something_ , as if moving air brushed past her very brain. When the sensation receded, she opened her eyes again. She recognized the blonde now. Victoria Dallon, better known as Glory Girl, or "Collateral Damage Barbie" when out of earshot. That would mean the other girl was Panacea. _Guess I'll have to eat elsewhere,_ Taylor thought. But before she turned to leave, she noticed Glory Girl's boyfriend staring at her.

 _Don't panic. That will attract attention._ Taylor let her eyes wander away from the guy, and she walked away, trying not to look like she was in a hurry - Winslow taught her far more about avoiding notice than it did the official curriculum. She passed a few stores and ducked into an alleyway, looking back to see that the guy had gotten up and started following, though the other three seemed to be back to attempting conversation. She quickly switched into her new jacket once she confirmed the alleyway was empty. When she came out the other end, she turned the opposite way, hoping that would trick him.

Considering she nearly walked _into_ him after turning a corner, it quite clearly didn't.

"Hey, wait up. I just want to talk."

"I don't. I don't even know who you are," Taylor half-lied. She could _probably_ recall his name if she picked her brain hard enough, between being Glory Girl's boyfriend and from a rich family he showed up in the media every now and then.

"I'm Dean. Just hear me out, okay?"

"While the PRT gets here, you mean? No." She started backing away.

"No! Look, w- they wouldn't try to arrest you here even if I'd called them. Too many civilians to start a fight like that," Dean said almost pleadingly. He raised his hands to his sides in a 'keep calm' motion, but didn't try to come closer.

Taylor eyed him warily. She could buy that... or at least, that the PRT wouldn't charge in blindly.

"Talk fast, then. What are you really trying to pull, if it's not setting me up for the PRT?"

"I just wanted to tell you you're not in as much trouble as you think. The PRT found out about... well, what's been happening at Winslow." _At least he_ _ **seems**_ _to be bothered by that._

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Really? And you know about that... how, exactly?"

"Vicky's friends with the Wards, and they _talk_. And her mom's a lawyer. January was when you got your powers, right?" The question was uncertain, as if he wasn't sure whether he was crossing a line with it.

"...Yes. Why does it matter?"

"There's laws for that. You can look them up. If you turned yourself in, I'm sure you'd get off with probation, if that. You haven't gone too far yet. Taylor."

 _If only you knew_.

"I'm not going to turn myself in on something a stranger heard from the gossip chain, especially when they branded me a villain immediately while everyone responsible for what happened is still free." _Besides Madison and Sophia,_ Taylor mentally amended. "Besides, why do they care? They just want my powers on their side, don't they?"

"And the Elite don't?"

"They don't _pretend_ otherwise. If I'd gotten shoved in that locker instead of getting powers, they wouldn't have cared, and the PRT wouldn't have cared either, pretending to be heroes until _someone needed them to be._ " Taylor managed not to shout, but the tone of her voice started drawing attention. She took a deep breath. "They had their chance. I made my choice." She turned to leave.

"Taylor, wai-"

She tuned him out and picked up the pace, careful not to look faster than normal despite her smoldering anger. He didn't follow.

Taylor fumed all the way back to her flat, which was longer than usual to make sure nobody was following her. As she sank into her chair, she remembered the laws Dean mentioned. She booted up the laptop and started searching. From what she could decipher from the legalese, the laws were real - but she strongly suspected that whether they applied depended more on the lawyers than the situation. She fired off a message to Jennifer, asking if she knew about these. Twenty minutes later, she got an answer.

 _They're real, if the PRT wants them to be. They're pretty good at clearing charges related to trigger events if you play ball - if you don't, you end up like Hellhound. Was that you arguing with Glory Girl's boyfriend?  
_  
Taylor almost dropped the phone.

 _How'd you know?  
_  
The reply was faster this time.

 _PHO. Cameron sent me a link. If it's any consolation, the pictures are bad enough even we couldn't tell it was you for sure.  
_  
Taylor groaned. At least it didn't look like Jennifer was upset about that. She put down her phone and started working on dinner.


	22. Chapter 22

**March 7th, 2011 - Monday  
Afternoon  
**  
 _Bored, bored,_ _ **bored.  
**_  
Taylor got out of her chair and paced a few laps around the room, then fell back into her seat. Chronic _boredom_ was the last thing she'd expected when she signed up with the Elite, but it was her reality now. She hadn't gone on that many jobs with them, the training sessions were only a few hours twice or thrice a week, she couldn't spend her days wandering the city without risking too much attention, and there was only so much time she could spend browsing the Net before she got bored. Not that she wasn't glad to leave Winslow behind, but leaving _did_ add an extra eight hours to her day that she had to find something to do with.

She idly wondered what Arcadia's reaction to an unmasked villain trying to enroll would be, and smiled. _I'd be painting a target on my back even_ _ **if**_ _I got in, though._ Which she'd probably have a better chance at now that the Trio weren't there to sabotage her studies. _An online course, maybe?  
_  
She turned her laptop back on and started searching. There were certainly options, but the amount of personal information required for most of what seemed like the good ones was likely to lead anyone trying to find her straight to her place. Unless she used a fake identity, at least, but as she understood it the thrown-together "Rose Ellison" identity was only intended to exist as a name on the rent contract, with the entire apartment block, along with many others, belonging to a company that had a _"mutually beneficial understanding"_ (the term Jennifer used) with the Elite.

 _Hm. Maybe I should ask Jennifer about it. The Elite can't_ _ **all**_ _be adults with no interest in further education, can they?_

~o~o~o~

 **March 8th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
Taylor got her chance to ask on the way to the next training session. Jennifer was driving again.

"So, I've been thinking..." she started.

"Anything in particular?" Jennifer asked, mild curiosity in her voice.

"Mostly that I've been crawling up the walls with boredom for a while now. The teenage dream of living in your own place with no parents and a lot of free time isn't what I imagined it would be."

"Just to be clear - you don't literally crawl up walls, do you? Because that _would_ be a neat trick." She sounded like she wasn't entirely joking.

"Not literally, no. Who would do that?"

"You'd be surprised what some people get up to. I've heard of a Tinker who got told by a girl she'll sleep with him when pigs fly. So he built a few antigravity flight packs and trained some pigs to fly in them. This was back in '03."

"...Seriously? That's trying too hard," Taylor said while trying not to break down in giggles.

"It gets better. He released them right in the middle of Times Square. Apparently the first few calls were dismissed as pranks by the police, so the pigs made quite a mess there before he had the flight packs detach and fly back to him. Rumor has it, he even got what he wanted in the end," Jennifer finished, though Taylor was laughing too hard to hear her by then. She was smiling too, but kept her eyes on the road.

Once Taylor calmed down, she remembered there was a point to the conversation.

"This was great and all, but I did want to ask something. Any chance you can arrange courses or something for me? It would be nice to have something to keep myself busy with, but everything I found seems like an open invitation to have someone kicking down my door."

Jennifer's brow furrowed. After a few moments, she answered.

"I know for sure there's foreign language courses. Not sure about other subjects, or high school level stuff - I'd have to look into it. I'll send you a message about it later?"

"Sure, thanks."

"It's no problem. Actually, there was something I'd rather talk to you about as well."

"Hm?"

"I've mentioned that we'll need to find some unpowered people too. For working with Parian, mostly - security, deliveries, other errands. But we can't take in just anyone when the other gangs and maybe even the PRT will try to send spies our way. I've come up with an idea, but I'd rather run it past you first, just in case." She started turning to look Taylor in the eye, but caught herself and returned her attention to the road.

"I don't really know much about hiring..." Taylor answered hesitantly. Sure, it was a part of her dad's job, but she never planned to follow in his footsteps.

"You don't have to. Your father does. We don't need college diplomas here, Taylor. Just a handful of trustworthy people with some brains in their heads, and he could probably point us to a few. There'd be decent pay involved, of course - for him and for them. I thought just sending in the bugs to talk to him might send the wrong message, and he's apparently been opposing gang influence in the DWU for a while - think you could talk him into at least hearing me out?"

"I don't know. I can try, I guess?"

"That's all I can ask. Anyway, we're here," Jennifer said as the warehouse came in sight. They pulled over and went inside to find Cameron, Lim and Martin. Martin had several sets of his powered gauntlets laid out on a table and seemed to be comparing them.

"Hey, Boss. We're not inviting Marty's little friend?" Cameron asked Jennifer, flexing.

"Not yet. Maybe next time, depending on..?" the latter answered, shooting Martin a questioning look.

"I'll say no. Can't tell for sure how long the kid had his powers, but it wasn't 'around a month'. Even if he isn't a spy, he's hiding something."

Jennifer grimaced and Taylor felt her get angry, but the woman calmed herself down in a moment.

"We're not letting him near anything important, then. Try not to tip him off, and if there's anything of yours in the shared workshop you don't want to risk, start transferring it elsewhere. Preferably after sweeping for bugs, that is. _Not my kind of bugs,_ " she finished, glaring at Lim and Cameron.

"Not a rookie, Jen. I know the drill," Martin replied, slightly annoyed. "Hey, Taylor, get in your costume, there's something that needs testing."

Ten minutes later, a slightly confused Taylor was standing in front of Dynamic, both in full costume. The Tinker raised one of his gauntlets.

"A new trick I've finished building. Spy or not, the kid knows his stuff - it was just the breakthrough needed. Since I know the technical details will only get blank stares, here's the deal: The new gauntlets should be able to bypass non-living material, letting me punch armored opponents as if they weren't such. I'll start off on a low setting, just in case, and it'll be even better motivation for you to work on your dodging. Three, two, one, _go!_ "

Taylor's sore sides after the training session reminded her of the first days sparring, before she had her armor. Martin's new invention seemed to work as advertised, and his arm had fully healed, while Taylor had had to hold back a lot more against her other teammates, so they were both rather enthusiastic during the sparring.

~o~o~o~

 **March 8th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Evening  
**  
Taylor dialed her dad's number and waited. It didn't take long for him to pick up.

 _"Hello?"_

"It's me, Dad."

 _"Taylor! Is something wrong?"_ He sounded genuinely worried. Taylor had to admit he had his reasons to be.

"No, nothing's wrong. They just asked me to pass on a message."

 _"I won't like hearing it, will I?"  
_  
"Probably not. Web wants to hire some Union people, and if what she told me she'd have them do is true I'm not sure if that'll even be illegal."

 _"Which is?"  
_  
Taylor hesitated for a moment. Technically Parian working with the Elite wasn't public knowledge yet, but if the recruiting worked then whoever got the jobs would have to know about it anyway.

"They'd work with Parian. Deliver her wares and guard her store, as I understand. That's the part she told me, anyway."

 _"I don't know... it doesn't seem too shady if she's honest, and the guys really do need jobs, but I'm not sure this is a good idea."  
_  
"I'm not asking you to do it, Dad. I just promised I'd ask you to hear her out."

 _"...Fine. Tell her to get in touch so we can discuss things. But I'm not making promises."  
_  
"I will. Enough business talk for tonight?"

 _"Yeah. Enough. How have you been holding up, Taylor?"  
_  
"Bored out of my skull, actually. A lot more free time than I thought there'd be. I'm trying to find online courses or something, see if I can make use of it."

 _"I'm glad to hear it. Even if you have a career lined up already, I think you need something in your life that isn't about being a cape."  
_  
Taylor took a few moments to answer.

"Yeah. I do. Even if I won't get to work a normal job, it's..."

 _"Something she'd have approved of. Maybe the only thing in this about this whole situation she would have. I know."_

The conversation dried up quickly after that. Taylor eventually hung up after promising Dad she'd stay safe.

~o~o~o~

 **March 14th, 2011 - Monday  
Evening  
**  
Taylor was doing streches when her phone beeped. They'd found out during training that while her power was excellent for speed and strength, flexibility and balance were apparently beyond its purview, and it _was_ a way to pass at least some time.

 _Looked into the courses. There's definitely languages - my recommendations are French for dealing with our Canadian colleagues or Spanish/Japanese for the major local foreigners - though beyond that we're not really looking at a high school curriculum - I found the hard sciences, programming, psychology, economics, accounting and law. Anything strike your fancy?_

 _Well, that's not the worst selection out there,_ Taylor thought before her brain did a double-take with the accounting. She tried to imagine Webweaver in full costume filling out tax forms. She looked through the options again. _Better pick not enough at first than too much._

 _I'll take French and law to start, I think._

 _Done. By the way, we're arranging for new costumes with Parian. Would you be okay coming to her workshop Friday afternoon?_

 _Sure._ _Where?  
_  
The next message was an address, and Taylor got back to her exercises.

~o~o~o~

 **March 18th, 2011 - Friday  
Afternoon  
**  
The doors closed behind Taylor as she stepped into Parian's new workshop. The rogue herself was nowhere to be seen, but there was a familiar face right in front of her.

 _"Kurt?"  
_  
"Who are- _Taylor?_ " he exclaimed, confusion giving way to a broad grin.

"It's me, Kurt. What are you doing here?"

"Working, as you may guess. Danny wanted someone he trusted on this job, to see if anything shady's going on or if it's legit. Didn't expect to run into you only a few days in, though."

"Find anything?" Taylor asked.

"If I did, I couldn't tell you, could I? You are technically on the side I'm spying on," he said in a mischievous tone.

"I suppose not. How many people do you have working here?"

"A few guys, though usually only one on duty at a time. Alexander's on lunch break. Say, that thing with Alabaster..."

Taylor facepalmed.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?" she asked in the most exasperated tone she could muster, over Kurt's chuckles.

"Neither is he, for that matter. I think you'd break the Internet if you got filmed doing it again."

Taylor was about to respond when she noticed Parian watching the exchange. Her posture was a little tense, but not as much as when Taylor last saw her.

"Here for the new costume, I take it?" Parian's tone was polite, if not entirely friendly.

"Yeah. Web's arranged everything, right?"

"Most of it, really. There's a few designs for you to pick from, then I'll need your measurements."

They spent a few minutes going through Parian's designs. They'd eventually settled on one rather similar to the old one, though less bulky, which Parian promised didn't sacrifice protection. When the time to take measurements came, Kurt excused himself without being asked.

 _At least this can't be worse than Jennifer's methods,_ Taylor thought as several tape measures started circling the air around her.

~o~o~o~

 **March 21st, 2011 - Monday  
Morning  
**  
 _Strategy meeting today. Might be our most important job so far.  
_  
Taylor looked at the message on the screen, the sense of foreboding chasing the last remnants of sleep away.


	23. Chapter 23

**March 21st, 2011 - Monday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
Taylor and Cameron entered the usual meeting room, to find everyone except Martin already inside. Jennifer raised her eyes off the papers she had laid out on a table and gave them a faint smile.

"Hey, girls. Martin got in my range a moment ago - he'll be here in a minute, then we can begin."

True to her word, the Tinker went in through the door a minute later and nodded at everyone in greeting.

"Alright, let's begin. Have you all heard about the mess in Cornell a couple of weeks ago?" Jennifer asked without waiting for someone to prompt her. Taylor wasn't certain, but she seemed a little more tense than usual during briefings. After a round of nods, she continued.

"The Tinker responsible was a new trigger, Alice Nakamura. From what we know about her, she's a bomb specialist and an egomaniac, and was ruled out as a recruitment opportunity despite a promising power. She's due to be transferred to a more secure holding facility in New York on Wednesday."

"We're not trying to break her out, are we?" Martin asked.

" _We_ definitely aren't, but information leaks have been tracked. We suspect Lung will personally come to recruit her - this would be disastrous for our current and future operations in the Bay even _if_ Lung keeps her under control - but if she manages to take over, half the city will be a crater. Our goal here is to make sure Lung doesn't bring her back to the Bay. Any questions?"

"Are we taking Trevor with us?" Lim asked.

"No, not yet. If we have to offer an explanation, say we didn't want to take someone new and barely-trained into a situation that dangerous. Here's the plan..."

~o~o~o~

 **March 23rd, 2011 - Wednesday  
Evening  
**  
"They're turning right. No sign of trouble yet," Webweaver's voice cut through the quiet. They were driving along a street that ran parallel to the one the prison transport was taking, about half of her range behind and to the right. Martin took the next turn right, to keep out of sight. They weren't expecting trouble to start until they left the city, so for now caution was what mattered. Taylor's leg bounced restlessly, and she could tell her teammates were tense as well. She wasn't sure if she was more concerned with the upcoming fight, or that among the crates of insects in the back of the van, one carried a batch of Webweaver's new bombardier beetles. She didn't care how many times the woman swore the bugs aren't volatile until they've spent a few minutes "arming", it was still _a crate of exploding insects.  
_  
Taylor hoped for a brief moment that it won't come down to a fight. _Maybe Lung will miss the transport. Maybe the PRT knows about the leak too and will change the transport's route before they hit the ambush._

A few minutes later, the transport left city bounds and continued down the highway to New York. Webweaver's calm voice as she told Dynamic how to correct the speed to keep the right distance from the transport wasn't helping Taylor's nerves about fighting the villain that single-handedly defeated the entire Protectorate ENE when he first arrived in the Bay.

As the transport exited the highway half an hour later to follow the leaked route, Webweaver spoke up again in a far less calm tone.

"They're stopping. Something's..." she trailed off, before shaking her head. "Ash all over the vehicle. They ran over an Oni Lee clone. Get ready, everyone!"

They stopped their van at the side of the road and started approaching on foot - even if it did cost them some time, their getaway vehicle becoming collateral damage in the fight wasn't in the cards. Web looked at Taylor.

"Eris, get there as fast as you can. They have a cape riding escort, some kind of Striker by the moves, but they're not going to hold Lee for long."

Taylor nodded, grabbed a fingertip Jigsaw offered and broke into a sprint as Web's swarms started flooding out of the van. It didn't take long to see Oni Lee fighting a blue-clad hero. The guard's punches left bright, blue-white afterimages, and when his fists collided with either Oni Lee's knives or clones, a burst of ice appeared. He was fast, but before Taylor could get in range, a clone managed to get past his guard and stab him in the arm. The clone's own arm was frozen solid by a burst of ice, but as the rest of the clone burst into ash, another appeared behind the hero and plunged a knife into the small of his back. The hero cried out as he fell to the ground.

The assassin was fiddling with the transport's back door when he heard Taylor's footsteps. As he turned to look at her, she _pushed_ her power towards him. _Can't risk letting him use grenades.  
_  
Oni Lee charged her, just as she felt a flicker of anger appear behind her, fading. She leapt to the side as a knife flew past where she stood and the furious Lee next to the transport burst to ash, and came face to face with another one. She pulsed her power at him and punched, the next swirl of ash joining the one from the previous clone as _another_ fading pulse of anger appeared to her left. She was momentarily distracted when her anger sense noted someone else barreling down the road ahead towards them - and Taylor was fairly certain who _that_ was.

The momentary distraction was enough for three more Lees to appear around her, while the first of Webweaver's swarm started to descend. Taylor slammed herself into one of them to clear some space while trying to anger the other two with her powers, and cast Jigsaw's fingertip into the air the moment she had the space to do so. The friendly teleporter appeared midair and took a backhand swing at the head of a Lee that appeared immediately behind him. That one didn't burst into ash instantly.

"His teleports throw off my power!" Taylor shouted, before focusing on the Lee that had appeared next to the transport again. He stumbled and another one appeared next to her, mildly disoriented. He managed to teleport again before she struck him. _This whack-a-mole game was not the plan!  
_  
The assassin was, however, slower than before he got smacked in the head, and even more so compared to how he moved against the hero. Taylor realized that even if Lee's teleportation cancelled her power, the brief bursts of anger were still distracting him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lung come in view and start charging. She _pushed_ her power at every Lee in sight and immediately kicked backwards. The blow connected at a _very_ painful height and she punched the doubled-over Lee in the temple. He collapsed, and Jigsaw jumped in and started wrapping a blindfold around his mask, then rolled down the neck of Lee's costume when a gold widow arrived, seeking a spot to bite. Dynamic and Cameron finally caught up, and the Tinker shot Lung in the knee, causing him to stumble. The dragon-man's emerging scales scraped against the transport's side, and Taylor thought she heard a muffled yell from within.

Vortex's field sprang up around him the moment he regained his balance, tugging him away from the transport and closer to the encroaching swarm. They weren't certain how Lung's regeneration would work against venom, but they all agreed the best chance to find that out was _before_ he ramped up to the point of being permanently on fire. However, for every few stumbling steps the field forced him to take, he grew several inches and it took longer to knock him off balance the next time. Vortex looked at Dynamic and nodded. As the Tinker raised his weapon, the field suddenly shifted behind Lung, the sudden change in direction nearly causing him to fall over backwards. A shot to the left collarbone cracked scales in a burst of blood, knocking him to the ground completely. The dragon-man stood back up, going along with the green field's continued movement - _he realized the pull is strongest at the edge.  
_  
Once back on his feet, the now nine foot tall Lung _charged_ out of the field, only stumbling when Vortex pulled the field up - even if the pull wasn't strong enough to lift him off the ground as he was now, it messed with his footing enough. The four scattered to dodge a gout of flame headed their way, and Lung started chasing after Vortex. She dismissed her field and recreated it in front of herself for additional speed, and a curtain of bugs coalesced behind her, hiding her from sight. The next fireburst scattered burnt insects, and revealed Vortex using her field to... "flying" didn't describe it as well as "falling mostly upwards."

Vortex dismissed the field briefly to dodge a parting fireball from Lung, and floated far enough away after catching herself again that Lung decided to find himself a new target. Dynamic took that as his cue to repeat his "walking on the air" trick Taylor had seen him do the day she first met the Elite.

 _Does_ _ **everyone**_ _on this team except me have a flying trick?_ Taylor thought in exasperation as Lung decided she was a better target than the teleporter and charged, roaring and setting the road on fire with his footsteps, eating the distance with every bound now that he was approaching twelve feet tall. She turned to run, and heard Web's voice again.

 _"The widows will just burn now. Plan B - lure him to your 9 o'clock."  
_  
Taylor did so, turning to run in the general direction of the van. Lung elected to throw more fire after her instead of chasing, and Taylor felt the heat as she barely dodged it. A reflexive breath felt like it was about to burn her lungs out, but she managed to dash another dozen feet before the coughing fit came. Lung wasn't chasing her... _why wouldn't he? It's not like...  
_  
Then it hit her. He knew she was luring him into a trap. She remembered how her own regeneration removed her need for glasses.

"He has enhanced hearing!"

 _"I see. There's one last trick I can think of. Keep away from him."_

Taylor decided to listen to that and started backing away from Lung. He had lost the mask, and she could see him scan the area. As his eyes fixed on the van, he raised a hand and started gathering flames in it. Taylor chanced a look, and saw Jigsaw toss a fingertip in Lung's direction. Lung barely spared it a glance as it passed a foot above his head.

Jigsaw reappeared there for a split-second, and was gone before either Taylor or Lung could react.

The bombardier beetles that had been clinging to his costume, however, remained.

Taylor realized what was about to happen just as the beetles started sizzling in Lung's fire, slammed her hands over her ears, closed her eyes and dove to the ground.

The _THUMP_ rattled her ribs, and as she shakily got off the ground, she saw Lung on the ground, most of his flesh stripped to the bone. His fires had gone out, and the swarm of insects that surged forth reached him without much trouble. A handful of gold widows bit down where the flesh wasn't covered in scales. Looking carefully, Taylor could see the scales were receding, but the bleeding was stopping as well. Webveaver spoke again, voice calm even as Taylor sensed her controlled anger.

 _"Either that keeps him down until the heroes show up, or the only way we're winning this fight is if we execute him now. We need to go."  
_  
The team gathered back at the van. They found Webweaver had laid Jigsaw across the back seat, cutting the burnt pieces of his costume off with a knife. Most of the burns were around his hands and chest, but he seemed to be breathing fine.

"He didn't get caught in the blast, just a split-second in Lung's flames," she spoke, preempting the question. "He'll heal, but it'll almost certainly scar and infection is a possibility. Now stop gawking and _drive._ "

They drove away, a tense silence only broken by Web's phone ringing an hour later. She read the message, not showing an outward reaction, but her anger subsided at least a little.

"Lung and Oni Lee were still out of it when the heroes showed up. They were both apprehended. The Tinker had managed to get out of the car, but she didn't get very far before they found her. Mission success, I suppose."

That seemed to ease the atmosphere a little. Jigsaw spoke up from the back seat.

"So, what was that flight trick, Vortex? Don't think I've seen you pull that one before." He sounded tired.

"Oh, uh, that's another reason I can't really use my field in melee. I... suspected I can do that, but I never tried. Don't laugh, but... I'm kinda scared of heights." She sounded a little embarrassed at that.

"Guess an angry dragon is even scarier, huh?"

"You don't say?"

Everyone chuckled at that. Webweaver seemed lost in thought, though it was hard to tell in her concealing costume. Eventually she spoke up.

"If that's the entire ABB's cape roster in custody... the Empire's going to make their move. Call your father when we get back, Taylor. Things won't be quiet in the Bay for long."


	24. Chapter 24

**March 28th, 2011 - Monday  
Morning  
**  
In the days after Lung's capture hit the media, a tense silence fell over Brockton Bay. Nothing overt was happening - yet - but people were nervous. Thugs with swastikas and 88 tattoos were more common a sight in Empire-controlled areas than they've been in a long time, and the kinds of people who had reason to be uneasy around them stayed indoors at night even in neighbourhoods where they wouldn't have done so a week ago, but nobody was in a hurry to make the first move, as if everyone was waiting for some unseen signal.

None of this was on Taylor's mind as she fumbled for her ringing phone, jolted out of sleep at a far earlier hour than she was used to lately. She finally managed to grab it and put it to her ear.

"Hello?" she answered blearily.

 _"Turn on the news. Now."  
_  
Jennifer hung up, and Taylor got out of the bed and turned on the TV in the living room. The first news channel she managed to find was slowly scrolling through a list of names next to pairs of pictures.

 _"The PRT has not yet released a statement..."  
_  
Taylor recognized the people in half of the pictures. They were Empire capes, with pictures of them in their civilian identities right next to them, along with their names. _Max Anders. Kayden Anders. James Fliescher.  
_  
Taylor mentally rewound backwards. _Max Anders?_ She remembered some high society thing the Barneses dragged their family into, back when her mom was alive. Anders was among the people Alan introduced them to. _I shook hands with the man, dammit!  
_  
As the newscaster rambled on, Taylor calmed down and started thinking how the Empire would react. She was sure that they wouldn't take it lying down, no matter what. And if they targeted the Elite while lashing out...

She ran back into the bedroom to grab her phone and called her home number, hoping Dad hadn't gone out to work yet. He wasn't.

 _"Taylor?"  
_  
"Dad. Did you see the news?"

 _"I did. Is this real? Someone's lit the powder keg."  
_  
"I don't know, but... Be careful, okay? There's no telling what the Empire might do after this."

 _"Of course, Taylor. I think I'll-"  
_  
Taylor didn't hear what he said next, thanks to the newscaster showing another, _familiar_ face.

 _"Another of the informant's leaks concerned the criminal record of Shadow Stalker, and her civilian identity's involvement in the events leading to this year's Winslow Massacre..."_

 _"-Taylor, are you there?"  
_  
"...They just outed Sophia. I think they're... yeah, they're publishing my journal too. _Fuck._ "

 _"That's about the right word. I have to go now... I'd ask you to stay safe, but the last time you promised that you picked a fight with Lung not two weeks after."  
_  
"Dad!" Taylor exclaimed, but he'd already hung up.

~o~o~o~

 **March 28th, 2011 - Monday  
Evening  
**  
Taylor and Martin entered the warehouse. They'd seen Jennifer's car on the way in, and Cameron's was there already, so they were only waiting on... _No,_ Taylor corrected herself. Lim would stay benched for at least a couple of weeks. Jennifer had explained after the job that she could set him up with a healer who could ensure no permanent damage was done, but the cape's power was apparently more reliable on wounds that had healed naturally for at least some time.

When they entered the office, Jennifer held a hand up.

"First things first. Taylor, don't panic." The words didn't _help_ the sudden sinking feeling in Taylor's stomach at all. "I checked on your father's house on the way from work. It's been ransacked, but I didn't find any signs of a fight. Whoever that was, I think they didn't find him. Do you have any idea where he could've gone?"

Taylor forced herself to think. "I did warn him to be careful when the news hit. Maybe... maybe he decided to stay somewhere else? I can think of a few people, but I don't know where most of them live."

"Any names?"

"Kurt and Lacey are probably closest, and I think their house had a spare room. It's the first place I'd think of, but I think they moved houses a couple of years ago and I don't know where the new one is."

Jennifer cracked a smile and reached for one of the drawers, pulling out a stack of papers.

"This Kurt, he's one of the people we've hired to run security for Parian, right? It should be... yes, found it. Convenient place too, we'll be able to check it out along the way tonight."

"Along the way to what?" Taylor asked. The others seemed curious as well.

"Kaiser might be in charge of the Empire, but Othala is what gives them their staying power. Take her out, and attrition turns against them."

"Assassinating an outed cape seems like a risky move," Martin noted. Taylor figured expecting any of the supervillains to voice _moral_ objections first was a bit much.

"That's why it's Plan B," Jennifer replied. "I could do that on my own, anyway. I have a better idea. We capture her and deliver her to the PRT, same as we did the Merchants."

"Um, Boss, I can believe the PRT holding on to the Merchants, but do you really think they'll manage to keep the Empire from breaking out one of their most valuable capes?" Cameron asked increduloisly.

"That's the point. It will force the Empire's hand, make them predictable. After that..."

Jennifer proceeded to explain her plan.

~o~o~o~

 **March 28th, 2011 - Monday  
Late Evening  
**  
Jennifer and Taylor were in a car, headed for Empire territory in search of their safehouses. Gathering information, as expected, was the first step of the plan - it was unlikely that they'd find Othala herself, but the Empire capes were unlikely to be sleeping in their own homes tonight, and that meant Jennifer would comb the Empire territory with her insects while Taylor played bodyguard. This part of the plan relied a lot on luck, but it wasn't particularly risky, which meant Taylor had plenty of time to fret about her father.

So far, all they'd found was a potential drug stash, which Jennifer noted contained some bottles with Medhall labels. They took a detour toward Kurt and Lacey's place, and Taylor waited for Jennifer to just _tell her he's there already...  
_  
"Found him," Jennifer said after what seemed like forever. She looked at Taylor with the corner of her eye, smiling. Taylor felt her nerves settle... then Jen's eyes widened and her smile froze.

"A car just pulled over nearby. Four guys, all armed. I'll drop you off just out of sight, but you'll have to move fast," she said, motioning towards the glove box. Taylor opened it, found a handful of earbuds, and put one in while Jen navigated the streets. A minute later, the car took a turn into the street, and Taylor jumped out, sprinting towards the house. The skinheads had split up, each seemingly planning to break in through a different window. The one nearest to her finally spotted her when she was fifteen feet away and tried to shoot her, but she jerked to the side at the last moment and the bullet went wide. He didn't get another shot off before Taylor slammed him headfirst into a wall, but he managed to cry out before going down. _The gunshot will have alerted the others, anyway.  
_  
Hearing the other three windows break was confirmation of that. She circled to the left, peeked in the window, and saw a skinhead in the kitchen, creeping towards where the one who tried to shoot her would've entered through. Taylor spotted a rolling pin on the kitchen counter within easy reach of the window and climbed in. The grass crunched beneath her feet and the skinhead started turned around, but she grabbed the pin and threw it at his face before he could pull the trigger, then dashed forward and ripped the gun out of his dazed hands before punching him right below the sternum. He collapsed, and she moved to hunt down the third.

 _"He's lurking in the second doorway to the left. I'll distract him, go on my signal,"_ Jennifer's voice rang in her ear.

The _"Now!"_ was accompanied by a loud slap coming from the room. Taylor jumped in and disarmed the thug, who was too distracted by the handful of spiders crawling over his face to pull the trigger in time.

While she was busy with that, she felt several spikes of anger from upstairs, and a gunshot rang out as one of the angry people faded out. _No, no, no_...

Taylor dashed upstairs, uncaring of the chance of running into a gunman. She was furious enough that the gun wouldn't have done him any good, even if he was...

Even if he wasn't lying unconscious on the floor, surrounded by her dad, Kurt and Lacey, the latter standing behind the fallen thug with an omnibus edition of _Lord of the Rings_ that was a gift to her from Taylor's mom. Taylor stared slackjawed at the scene in front of her, while the three froze up at her sudden intrusion. After a few moments, Kurt lowered the baseball bat in his hands.

"We meet at the strangest times, Taylor. Was that you causing the ruckus downstairs?"

"Yeah... yeah, there were three more, but they're out cold now. Are - are you guys alright?"

"We're fine," her dad rasped out. "Just got grazed by that shot at the end, that's all. Had worse, but I'd best bandage it up anyway," he said, before heading towards the bathroom to presumably do just that.

 _"The neighbours have already called the police. I've had the gold widows bite the thugs, but we really have to get out of here fast."  
_  
"Sorry about this mess," Taylor said. "Bringing you into our problems..."

"Don't worry, Taylor," Lacey answered. "It's what friends do."

"...Thanks. I have to go now."

Jennifer and Taylor drove away while the police sirens were just starting to sound. They continued their search for Empire capes for a couple more hours, before hitting the jackpot while passing an abandoned animal shelter.

"Not very abandoned," Jennifer said as she circled it from the edge of her range. "Plenty of dogs in there. Smell of blood. A handful of thugs, and... yes, that's him. Hookwolf. The others could be Stormtiger and Cricket, I think."

Jennifer spent a few minutes scouring the place with insects, before taking Taylor to her flat.

"Get a good night's sleep, Taylor. Tomorrow's going to be fun," she advised, before driving off.


	25. Chapter 25

**March 29th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Morning  
**  
"That'll be Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Cricket. Everyone else I can find is a normal, as far as I can tell," Webweaver said, as she parked the car as close to the Empire capes' hideout as she could without drawing the attention of a lookout. Everyone got out of the car.

"If there's a fourth, I'll demand a raise," Vortex threatened. Web simply glared at her.

Everybody was quiet for a minute, as they walked towards their target while trying to stay out of sight. Webweaver split off a couple of turns before they'd have come in sight of the shelter to seek a hiding spot, and it wasn't long until she spoke into the earbuds.

 _"A lookout spotted you. They know you're here now."_

 _Good thing stealth wasn't the point, then,_ Taylor mused as the building came in sight, and the few civilians out and about started looking for other places to be. She could feel faint traces of anger spread throughout the building, picked out a window, and pointed at it, then raised two fingers.

She and Dynamic rushed ahead, and when the two skinheads popped their heads out to shoot through the open window, Dynamic shot first. They fell to the ground as if they'd been punched out - Taylor recalled that getting hit by the thing _felt_ like a very solid punch even at the setting he used to shoot normal people with. Taylor ran up to the window, jumped in, and kicked each of them once to make sure they'd stay on the ground. The place didn't seem like it'd hold that many skinheads, but they'd soon have to fight against Hookwolf indoors. Taylor checked with her anger sense - nobody would have a line of fire yet if she came out of the room.

 _"The capes are coming from your left. Go right - only shotguns there as far as I see."  
_  
Right it was, then. Taylor turned a corner and charged towards the next pair of skinheads, shotgun pellets having little more effect than a friendly slap past her armor, though she still kept a hand in front of her eyes while closing in, just in case. They were both cradling broken wrists three seconds later, and Taylor took the time to bend their weapons out of shape. The others followed right behind her, and Vortex jabbed both of them with her stun gun, silencing their swearing. The team turned towards the main area.

 _"They're turning around. Four people in the main area - one has an assault rifle, watch out for that."  
_  
Taylor signalled Vortex and _pushed_ with her power a second before kicking the door open. The Empire mooks were all turning their guns towards each other, and Taylor cut her power off before they could start a shootout. Then Vortex's green field swept across them, and Taylor closed in, focused on the one with the assault rifle. She set to work disarming them, keenly aware that the three Empire capes had made their way back into the main area. The dogs in cages around the edges of the room started growling.

A spike of anger was enough warning for her to jump sideways, wisps of condensed air slamming into the ground next to where she stood. The Nazis she'd knocked out weren't as lucky - Taylor suspected at least one of them wouldn't get back up after that.

"You really shouldn't have come here," Hookwolf growled. He was tall, blond, muscular, and hairy. Even if his iron wolf mask offered little protection and he had no more identity to hide, he still wore it. A scar-covered woman with a cage helmet and another man in an "animal wrestler" getup were flanking him. The latter was drawing air towards his hands. _Cricket and Stormtiger_. Vortex took the chance to speak.

"We could have done this at a fancy restaurant, but you know the rules. No shirt, no service," she said, with an audible smirk.

Taylor met Stormtiger's eyes and used her power. The man fired his claws at her again, this time aiming higher - she dodged, if barely, and they charged to meet each other, the tiger-masked cape reforming his air claws as he did so. When they collided, Taylor punched him in the gut while the claws struck her shoulder and detonated _again_ , staggering her and bursting her left eardrum. Taylor winced - she _was_ supposed to make their retreat after causing enough injuries look believable, but the ringing in her remaining ear was very unpleasant. She turned back towards Stormtiger and leapt toward him, and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch when her fist met his forearm. He jumped away before she could grab him, boosting the jump with an explosion of wind that nearly tripped Taylor. Everything swayed for a second before she regained balance - blasting out her ear damaged more than her hearing, but the familiar tingling of regeneration reassured her.

As she eyed Stormtiger, trying to figure out a way to get to him without tipping her hand too much, she noticed that the arm she'd hit was hanging by his side, no new air claws forming on them. A sudden metallic noise and frenzied barking drew both of their attention, and they saw that Dynamic had shot the locks off the dog cages, and Vortex's field had swept across to open the doors. A dozen of the animals spilled out, and while some tore into each other, a few of them went for the nearest human - Cricket. Vortex's field reappeared around her and started pulling the gladiator towards the frenzy.

Taylor recovered first and dashed at Stormtiger, and this time she managed to grab him before he could escape. She twisted his good wrist, threw him to the ground, and gave him a few solid kicks to the ribs. She was _fairly_ sure they weren't solid enough to outright break them, but a few cracks were an unfortunate necessity. Satisfied that he wasn't going to interfere in the fight again, she looked towards her teammates in time to see Dynamic shoot Cricket in the back of the head as she was carving through the last dog, Hookwolf delayed for that key second by Vortex's field. The scarred woman's head jerked forward, and she collapsed. Hookwolf's roar would've betrayed his anger if Taylor's power hadn't, and Dynamic barely leapt out of the way of his charge. Webweaver's voice over the comms confirmed her suspicions that it was time for the next step.

 _"They're wounded enough. Get out of here."  
_  
"Everyone, retreat! We haven't brought enough firepower for this!" Taylor called out, according to the script. The others had heard Webweaver's orders, of course, but she'd pointed out when making the plan that the fewer reminders the Empire got of her presence, the less likely they were to suspect a trap. The team wasted no time in heading towards the exit, which was neither locked nor barred - the double doors opened with an easy push, and they ran out of the shelter with Hookwolf catching up. Dynamic simply started running upwards, while Taylor grabbed Vortex and ran as fast as she could before heading into the alleyways. She had enough of a headstart that a couple of turns caused Hookwolf to lose them, and he headed back.

Taylor put Vortex back on the ground, and they followed Web's directions to her hiding spot on a rooftop.

"He's calling for Othala right now. So far, so good," she said absentmindedly. "I can't quite hear the other side, so I'm not sure when she's showing up, but I gather she's coming here so they don't have to move the injured. This makes things easier for me."

They spent the next fifteen minutes on the rooftop, Webweaver preparing an ambush in the warehouse with her insects, and sending off a text message. Eventually the gold-clad villain's head snapped to the left.

"They're here. Othala, Victor, Krieg, Alabaster," Webweaver spoke, typing in another message on her phone, while Vortex elbowed Taylor at the last name. "Move out."

Dynamic repeated his airwalking trick to get down faster, while Taylor and Vortex took the fire escape. Taylor's anger sense informed her that they'd been spotted by a lookout on the way down, but she was far more concerned by the car that turned a corner. It started speeding up when the driver saw them, but it ran over one of the beetles marching across the road.

The beetle promptly exploded, taking out the tire. The driver - Victor, Taylor presumed - had lightning reflexes, but Vortex's field popped up near the car and slowed it down while simultaneously forcing the passenger side against the wall of a building. The car skidded to a stop right in front of Taylor, doors falling out. Taylor dashed in and grabbed the young woman in a red bodysuit - Othala - who wasn't too dazed to shout for help. Getting back out took a fair bit more effort than reaching in had taken in the first place, and she saw a man in what could only be described as a Gestapo outfit trying to reach out and grab her. _Krieg._

The SS lookalike decided not to play tug-of-war against Taylor with Othala as the rope, and Taylor managed to throw the woman towards her team before backing out an inch ahead of Krieg's fingers. Othala rolled to her feet instead of slamming hard into the ground like Taylor hoped for, but Vortex's field manifested once again and started dragging the woman towards Taylor's team. Victor ran around the car and took off after his companion, but Dynamic got in his way. The Empire cape was _furious_ , Taylor could tell - and promptly used her power to drive him into a deeper rage, where his stolen skills would be of little help. As Victor lunged at Dynamic with a wordless scream of rage, Alabaster got out of the shotgun seat, angrily casting aside the seatbelt that had apparently gotten jammed in the crash and kept him inside for the few precious moments.

"You," the pale man addressed Taylor.

"Me," Taylor answered, backing away from him and Krieg. Webweaver's swarm was trying to approach, but was kept at bay by his power.

Taylor felt a surge of anger appear down the street and start heading towards them at the same instant the earbud crackled to life.

 _"Hookwolf came out to investigate the commotion. He saw what happened to the car - we have Othala, it's time to disengage. Eris, grab her and go."  
_  
Taylor turned tail and ran towards where Vortex's field was still herding Othala away from the fellow capes. She jumped over an unconscious Victor as Dynamic started backing away while firing his weapon at Krieg and Alabaster. The latter just reset after each shot, while the former shrugged the hits off as if they were gusts of wind. Vortex's field dissipated when Taylor closed in, and she grabbed Othala around the waist, and they all started running towards a nearby maze of alleyways, with Vortex having a head start due to being closer to it. The Empire capes followed, while Othala shouted directions at them.

Taylor almost tripped when she ran into an alleyway where bubbling tar coated the ground, and the red bricks of the walls had turned into blood-coated tile, but she grimaced and continued running. The tar wasn't even ankle deep, and not nearly as viscous as it looked, but it still gave her the creeps. A firefly circled one side alley, and Taylor ran ahead of the team to follow it. She turned the corner and found a tall, red-haired woman in black leathers with a four-leaf clover emblem on her chest guarding a girl in a green robe with a maze-like pattern. The tar was a fair bit deeper and thicker in here.

Shamrock lowered the shotgun she'd raised when Taylor ran in.

"I'll watch the prisoner. Get back in the fight."

Taylor put Othala on the ground and headed back to rejoin the fight. Vortex was trying to escape Alabaster, Gregor the Snail and an orange young man - _Newter_ \- were trying to handle Krieg, while Dynamic worked with the two remaining mercenaries - Spitfire and Faultline herself - to keep Hookwolf at bay.

 _First things first_. Taylor decided that Vortex had the most immediate need for her help, and ran in to get between her teammate and Alabaster. His boots skidded slightly as he tried to avoid her, but Taylor managed to grab his knife arm and crush the wrist. The knife clattered to the ground as he reset with a flicker. Taylor slammed Alabaster into a wall, then grabbed him by the neck when he reset again and pinned him to the ground. Vortex tossed her a few zip-ties, and Taylor got to work, while spiders started raining from above.

 _"Once you've tied him up, hold him down while they cocoon him. Then go help with Krieg."_

Taylor tied Alabaster up despite his furious protests and pinned him face-down to the tar-coated ground as the spiders got to work, focusing on his wrists and ankles. It took about half a minute until she was sure he won't break out of the silk on his own. The tar started receding while she waited, and the walls started returning to their original color. Then she stepped over the white cape and headed towards Krieg, noting the green of Vortex's field in the corner of her eye where the rest fought Hookwolf.

The two Case 53's were holding their own against the Gestapo imitator. Newter was fighting from up close, faster than any normal human even under Krieg's power, while Gregor was keeping his distance and attacking with jets of sticky foam that Krieg took visible effort to disentangle himself from. Taylor circled around until she was between him and a larger pile of goo, then shouted at the cape.

"Hey, you!"

 _Nobody said I needed a creative insult,_ Taylor thought as she _pushed_ with her power the instant Krieg's gaze flickered toward her. He charged at her, boiling with rage, and she darted to the side and tried to trip him into Gregor's foam... but she underestimated Krieg's power by a tiny bit too much, and he managed to grab her left arm with his and drag her along as he fell. She tried to scramble away, but he pulled her to the ground while twisting around to fall on his back, and his right arm slammed into her shoulder. There was a crunching sound and Taylor's whole world flashed white, but as she regained her senses half a moment later, she saw Newter had managed to jump in and put his hand on Krieg's exposed neck. The Brute tried to take another swing, but as his fury faded before Taylor's eyes, his arm went limp halfway through and fell back to the ground.

"Shit, are you okay?" Newter asked.

Taylor carefully got off the ground with her uninjured right arm and stood up. There were spikes of pain in her left shoulder, and she couldn't feel her arm from there on down, but it wasn't as painful as it could've been and she felt the tingling she'd come to associate with her regeneration working. Though at the moment, it was only fueled by Hookwolf, Alabaster and the faint flicker of Othala that was rapidly leaving her range.

"I'll be fine, I think. Don't think I can go against Hookwolf like that, though."

 _"We'll come up with something,"_ Webweaver spoke in her ear. _"Just get back to me, don't take any risks. Everyone, Eris is injured and backing out. Plan accordingly."_

"Good luck," Taylor told Newter. He nodded and headed towards where the others were fighting Hookwolf, while Taylor followed a firefly to Webweaver's hiding spot on another rooftop. She got there unmolested, and sat with her boss for a few more minutes. The woman only spoke once after that, to say _"Now, Faultline,"_ but they were quiet outside that. Finally, Web stood up.

"They lost Hookwolf. No serious injuries on our side, but we won't get to grab more Empire capes before reinforcements arrive. Let's go."

Taylor followed Webweaver back to the van, where, along with her own team, she found Faultline and Shamrock, a zip-tied Othala in front of the latter. Webweaver confidently stepped towards the mercenary leader.

"Excellent work, Faultline. We'll be taking her off your hands, now."

"And our payment?"

Instead of answering, Web opened the van's back and pulled out a briefcase. She handed it to Faultline, who opened it, checked inside (Taylor couldn't see how much money was inside from where she was standing, and didn't even want to guess), and nodded at Shamrock a few moments later. The woman pushed Othala toward Dynamic, who ushered her into the back of the van before following in.

"A pleasure doing business," Faultline said, and shook hands with Webweaver before departing. The team got into the van as well, with Vortex taking the driver's seat.

"How's the arm?" Webweaver asked as the van started moving.

"Doesn't hurt anymore, but I still don't feel anything," Taylor answered, quite honestly - besides the feeling of her regeneration, her arm was a void. She felt a brief flash of anger from Web, but it was gone after a beat when the other woman spoke again.

"I'm sorry. This was a risky plan, and I hadn't had the best plan for Krieg - I did not expect him to be one of Othala's escorts. You'll have to stay out of cape fights until your arm's recovered, Taylor."

Taylor grudgingly admitted to herself that she wasn't in the best condition to fight. But to stay back when her team fought the Empire...

"However, there's something else you can do," Webweaver said, shaking Taylor out of her thoughts. "We've got the capes under pressure, but the fights between the unpowered Nazis and the remaining ABB members are a threat to civilians. There'd be some good publicity to be gained from containing that, and your arm would heal faster that way. What do you say, Taylor? Up for some vigilantism?"

Taylor had only one answer to that. After about fifteen minutes of driving, the van passed the PRT building. Vortex pulled up as close to the building as she could, then Dynamic opened the back door, waved at a PRT trooper to get his attention, and pushed Othala out of the van.

"She's all yours!" he shouted to the trooper over Othala's angry shouts, and slammed the door shut as Vortex got the van moving again.

The trip to base and home was routine by now, except for having to change to civilian clothes and later unlock her flat's door one-handed. As Taylor collapsed into her bed, she thought she'd felt at least a little bit of her sense of touch back in her injured arm before she drifted off.


	26. Chapter 26

**March 29th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Evening  
**  
Taylor woke up to a prickling sensation all over her arm. _Must be the nerves healing,_ she thought as she tried to move her fingers. She got them to twitch visibly, and the wrist was responding as well, but her sense of touch was off and her shoulder was still uncooperative under the wrapping. Still, it was a definite improvement compared to before her daytime nap, and a few more days would likely see her arm completely healed.

She did not intend to wait that long.

After sending a message to Jennifer, Taylor went to the kitchen to find something for... _is it still supper if you just woke up?  
_  
It took five minutes for the phone to ring, and she put the sandwich down before answering it.

 _"Taylor. Feeling better?"  
_  
"Regaining touch, and I can move the hand and fingers somewhat. Have anything for me?"

 _"Unfortunately, no. The Empire tried to intercept Othala's transport from the PRT HQ to the Rig a couple of hours ago."_

 _NO. Was all that really for nothing?_

 _"That didn't quite work out as they planned, however. The transport was a decoy - only a couple of trusted officers knew about it - and the 'prisoner' was a PRT officer in an Othala costume. The real one's still at the PRT HQ, and now has Rune for company."  
_  
"The Empire can't be happy about that. Though... how did you find _that_ out so quickly?" Taylor asked. _They'd have to have been on alert for anyone sneaking information out for that plan to work...  
_  
Jennifer's laughter rang in her ear.

 _"Oh, they caught the guy who leaked the information to the Empire. As for me... let's say that the rent on an apartment less than a block away from the PRT HQ may be expensive, but I can afford it."  
_  
It took Taylor a couple of seconds to process that. Then she started laughing along. She stopped after her shoulder twinged a bit.

"I still need to get my arm fixed up before fighting capes. If you haven't found a good place to go after..."

 _"Nothing exact, sorry. But there have been clashes between E88 and the ABB remnant on the outskirts for several nights in a row. You'd probably find something if you started at 42nd and circled north towards the docks. I could ask Lim to drive you to base and there, if you think you're up for a foot patrol?"  
_  
"Of course. What about the way back? He's not going to stay up all night waiting for me, is he?"

 _"He won't have to. Grab something to write with."_

Twenty seconds later, there was a notepad and a pen in Taylor's hands. She wrote down the number Jennifer recited.

 _"The New York cell are sending few people our way. Ibis should be in the city in a few more hours - he's a flyer, he can give you a lift to base and drive you home from there. That is, if you don't mind heights?"  
_  
"No, I don't."

 _"I'll make the calls, then. Good hunting."  
_  
Jennifer hung up, and Taylor went to find some clothes that wouldn't be too problematic between her costume and the shoulder wrap. She was ready to go by the time Lim called, though getting sneakers on mostly one-handed took some fumbling.

As she got into the passenger seat, she noticed Lim himself had more than his share of bandages covering his burns. Their edges stuck out of his shirt's collar.

"Hey, Lim."

"Hello, Taylor. Aiming for a Purple Heart too, I see?"

"Ha ha. I'll be fine soon enough. You?"

"Burns aren't very pleasant, but they're healing. I'll deal," he said, starting the engine.

The drive to base was rather uneventful, though Taylor was a bit surprised to see another car parked behind the warehouse.

"That one's for the new guy," Lim explained when he noticed Taylor eyeing the car warily. "Flight's good, but flying to your civilian home isn't the best idea. And I presume that he can't carry a car in flight."

"So why not drive?"

"If you had the choice to fly, would you not do so?" he asked, chuckling.

"...Point."

As they made their way upstairs, Lim motioned Taylor to follow him into the office. Once there, he opened a drawer and pulled a set of car keys out.

"Keys to the car. So Ibis knows where to find them. Now go, get suited up," he said, dropping the keys back in the drawer.

Taylor went, though her costume's close fit made it difficult to put on with her left arm still barely responding. When she finally got back to Lim, he mumbled something she was fairly sure was a "women getting dressed" remark while shaking his head. She chose to ignore it, and they got in the car again, heading towards the Empire/ABB border territories.

It took surprisingly little time for Taylor to start sensing anger at the edge of her range.

"Drop me off here," she told Lim, and he obliged. She got out, waved goodbye as he drove away, and started navigating towards the angry crowd. She was halfway there when the first gunshots started ringing, and abandoned all subtlety to run straight toward it with renewed vigour. Her shoulder started tingling again, and she could almost feel a crawling sensation.

When she turned the last corner, she saw exactly what she'd expected - nearly dozen skinheads with varying weapons, surrounded by a similar number of men in red and green. They were taking cover behind cars and around corners, the ones with guns - that was most of them - occassionally peeking out to take potshots. None of them had noticed Taylor yet as she was coming in from behind the ABB, which gave her time to think. _On the one hand..._ she thought, experimentally flexing the fingers of her left arm. They responded much better than they had when she left home, and she felt the fabric of her outfit rub against them. There was a slow _shifting_ in her shoulder, accompanied by a persistent tingling. She was sure her shoulder would be good as new in minutes. _On the other hand..._ she saw an ABB member fall back into cover with a cry, grasping his shoulder. Even if they were gang members, Taylor didn't want to let them kill each other.

The decision was made for her when one of the ABB members spotted her when he dove back into cover.

"Cape!" he shouted, raising his gun in her direction. Taylor ran toward him in a zig-zag, though his panicked fire went so wide it probably ended up putting her in _more_ danger of getting hit. She tore the weapon from his grasp with her good hand, tossed it aside, and drove a knee into the man's stomach, leaving him on the ground. He didn't quite start retching, but his pained groans were so _loud_ in the sudden silence. Taylor turned around to see both sides staring at her.

The momentary spell was broken a second later as some of the gunmen remembered their weapons. Taylor went after them first, since she figured they were more likely to kill someone. At least the gang members didn't put their differences aside to shoot her together, which Taylor counted herself fortunate for. She didn't want to use her power to anger them further, not when they were all armed and trying to kill each other already, but even without that she was fast enough that only the ones she charged had so much as a chance to hit her, and nobody seemed to be carrying heavy enough guns to punch through both her armor and her power.

The next three ABB members went down as easily as the first, and Taylor decided it was time to go after the skinheads. _No reason giving either side a victory here, and if I ignore them they might run off before my arm's healed._ Crouching behind the car the last ABB member had used as a hiding spot, she flexed her arm. The hand moved just fine, with only traces of the previous numbness there. The elbow was fine, and the shoulder... she couldn't quite raise the arm above shoulder level, but trying was met with only mild discomfort instead of pain, so she guessed it'd be fine by the end of the fight. She stood up, stepped over the downed ganger and stormed the Nazi line.

Some shotgun pellets bounced off her armor, but any skinheads that weren't aiming at her already didn't have the time to correct their mistake. She was in their ranks before the gunmen managed to complete their shout of "LOOK OUT!"

Knock guns out of hands. Shove melee combatants into each other. She barely noticed that the ABB started retreating, but when the Empire turned to run, she charged and knocked down the last one with a gun. He hit the ground with a loud thud, and Taylor winced at the sound. _Might have broken a rib, there._ But it solved the most important concern - with firearms out of the picture, she could use her power without worrying about killing them. She _pushed_ her power towards the half-dozen runners, and shouted "GET BACK HERE!" at them. They skidded to a stop, and turned around to face Taylor. She raised her left arm high in a middle-finger salute, testing if it was moving properly. _A minor hitch at the very edge of flexibility._ Taylor could honestly think she'd sleep that off, but the chance to heal it up faster was _right there._ As the skinheads charged, Taylor turned around and started running, keeping them _just_ out of reach.

After a good thirty seconds of running laps around the nearest building, Taylor tested her arm once again. Satisfied with the results, she turned around and faced the charge of three baseball bats, two lead pipes and a knife. Taking the angry gang members down with the same moves she'd practiced so many times by now, she had to admit to herself that fighting unpowered people just wasn't fair.

Even if a part of her enjoyed it anyway.

Once the Nazis were curled up on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered, Taylor looked around to examine her handiwork. There were a couple of harder takedowns, but it didn't seem like anyone was dying, though there was some blood in places where people got shot before getting rescued by their comrades. She walked away, and once she was sure she was out of earshot, she pulled her phone out and dialed the number Jennifer had given her. She did it with her left arm, just to enjoy it having healed again.

 _"Who's this?"_ was the answer from the other side. The voice was masculine, though somewhat high-pitched... as much as Taylor could tell past the sound of rushing wind on the other side.

"Eris. You're Ibis, right?"

 _"That I am. Calling for a lift, I take it? I'm about twenty minutes out from the city. Could you find some tall building nearby to get to the roof of? Easiest way for me to find you - I'm not exactly familiar with the city besides the key points."  
_  
"Okay. I'll see if I can find anything good. I'm west of the Docks right now, if that helps."

 _"I think I know where those are. Alright, I'll call you when I'm closer."  
_  
Ibis hung up. Taylor located the nearest fire escape and used it to climb to the roof so she could look around. Since this was a residential area, most of the buildings were unfortunately uniform blocks of flats. Finally she spotted a mall - it wasn't quite as large as Weymouth Mall, but it seemed like it'd have a distinct profile from the sky. After climbing back down the fire escape (she did _not_ want to risk roof jumping), she made her way towards the mall, keeping an eye out for anyone still awake at this hour. There were only a few people still out and about at this hour that she could easily avoid, though she thought she'd heard police sirens in the distance. Heading towards where the fight had been, if Taylor had to guess. Still, they faded away soon enough, and she was halfway to the roof when her phone rang. She quickly picked up.

 _"Okay, I'm west of the docks now. Where are you?"  
_  
"Climbing to a roof of a mall. Not the tallest building around, maybe, but there aren't many options out here and it should look distinct from on up. Are there any landmarks near you? I should be able to guide you there."

Taylor spent five minutes trying to direct Ibis. Eventually, he interrupted her.

 _"I think I see you. Wave your free hand?"  
_  
Taylor raised her hand and waved, scanning the sky.

 _"Yes, that's you. Coming in for a landing."  
_  
Taylor eyed the sky, but didn't see any sign of him. She started turning in a circle, and saw movement out the corner of her eye halfway through. It was a cape in an indigo robe, with skeletal wings of the same color coming out of his back. He spiraled down onto the rooftop, landed with a bit of a slide, and turned to face Taylor. His mask matched the rest of his color scheme, covered his face above the mouth, and reminded Taylor a little of a bird of prey. A duffel bag hung by his left side. Taylor was amused to note that he was almost an inch shorter than her.

"Hello, Ibis," Taylor greeted him.

"Eris. A pleasure to meet you," he said, with an exaggerrated bow. " I hear you wanted to ride me?" he continued, smirking. Taylor opened her mouth, then his words hit her. She sputtered, he chuckled.

"Jokes aside, it would be better to get moving. Hop on my back - bridal style isn't fun for long flights even when the passenger _isn't_ taller than me."

Ibis turned around, and Taylor climbed on his back, after some effort to find a good handhold that didn't have her holding on to his wings. Up close, she noticed they were a little translucent on top of a faint glow of their own. Slowly, they took off.

"Ah, do you need much concentration to fly? Because I have a question," Taylor asked the flyer.

"Ask away."

"How did you get from New York to here when flying at this speed?"

"I'm not saying you should go on a diet, but you're not exactly a feather," he snarked. "More importantly, we're still accelerating. I get way faster than this if I can fly in a straight line for a while. All the faster to take Web's money."

"Don't like her much?" Taylor asked.

"And she doesn't like me, but... She's professional, and pays well. There are worse people to get in contracts with."

 _Can't imagine why anyone wouldn't like him,_ Taylor thought sarcastically. The rest of the trip passed mostly quietly - and he really did build up a decent speed in about a minute - besides her giving directions to the base. The landing wasn't particularly smooth, but it was decent enough.

"Fancy place. Not the most luxurious I've seen, but there's space. What's in the crates?" he asked as they entered the warehouse.

"Web's projects. Mostly spiders, I think," Taylor said, noting Ibis's lip twitch when he heard that. She grabbed the car key from the office, tossed it to him, pointed him to one of the changing rooms and went to change herself.

She was done first, and a minute later a dark-haired, green-eyed man of an ethnicity Taylor couldn't even begin to guess walked out.

"Earl," he introduced himself.

"Taylor," she answered. They got in the car, and he took Taylor home before driving off. At least the car having a GPS meant Taylor didn't have to do the navigating.

 _Though I should probably look into learning to drive for myself once I have the time,_ Taylor thought, before turning in for the night.

...It turned out that sleeping through most of the day and getting into a fight enough to get the adrenaline pumping, but not enough to fatigue her threw off her internal clock. Taylor decided to spend several hours reading one of the books that came with the apartment instead, and made a mental note to get some of her own the next time she went shopping.


	27. Chapter 27

**March 30th, 2011 - Wednesday  
Late Morning  
**  
Taylor's morning was positively mundane after yesterday's excitement, which she took as a chance to catch up on her online studies. The humor in the fact that she willingly went to study almost first thing in the morning as a teenager living alone did not escape her, but deciding to check PHO first for news quickly derailed that plan when she saw the most active threads in the Brockton Bay section of the boards.

The older one discussed the Empire assaulting the PRT HQ to break Othala and Rune free - at about the same time Taylor was waiting for Ibis to give her a lift to base. There was no official tally of casualties, but injuries on both sides were confirmed, and there were rumors of dead PRT personnel. The Empire capes managed to evade the Protectorate before it could bring enough reinforcements to bear.

The leading headlines, however, were about Panacea's disappearance several hours later, near the end of one of her apparently unscheduled trips to the hospital. Neither the PRT nor New Wave released official statements, and there were no public demands or anyone claiming responsibility. Fingers were getting pointed everywhere, of course - even at the Elite, to Taylor's amusement. She couldn't see Jennifer turning around and pulling _that_ when she vetoed the idea of having Othala heal Taylor's arm before dropping her off with the PRT. _"There's always a catch with these kinds of powers,"_ she'd explained. _"At least, often enough to keep the possibility in mind."  
_  
After skimming the threads for a little more, Taylor sent a questioning message to Jennifer before getting back to her schoolwork. _News won't come faster if I sit around waiting for them.  
_  
An hour later, she received a reply.

 _Meeting in two hours. Cameron's picking you up._

~o~o~o~

 **March 30th, 2011 - Wednesday  
Afternoon  
**  
"Told you we'll be on time," Cameron said as they entered the warehouse. She was smirking at Taylor's irritated expression.

 ** _"Get over here already,"_** buzzed every insect in the ground floor of the warehouse. The two hurried their pace until they made it to the office, which was far more cramped than usual. Besides Jennifer, Martin and Earl, there were two newcomers. One was a very Nordic-looking man. Taylor couldn't even guess his height, but even sitting down he looked _tall_. The other man - at least, Taylor guessed that was a man - was in costume, doing a half-decent Grim Reaper impersonation, including tall and thin, but not including the scythe. Taylor wasn't sure, but it almost looked like his shadow was darker than it should be.

"Ymir and Shadowplay, Vortex and Eris," Jennifer introduced them. "Now that that's out of the way, we have a situation."

"The Empire or Panacea?" Martin asked.

"That's the same situation. I managed to get some spiders on Othala during the escape - black widows and brown recluses, keeping my special ones near the PRT building was too much of a risk - and managed to have them bite her when it became clear they'll manage to escape with her."

"So you assassinated her instead?" Taylor asked warily. She knew things can happen in a fight, and Sophia _was_ going after her father, but executing a prisoner...

"If the Empire gets her back, it could extend this gang war by _weeks_. How many people will die in the meantime?" Jennifer asked. Her voice was level with a curious note, but Taylor could tell she was angry. Taylor dropped the subject, and she continued.

"Now, while deaths to either of the species is rare, that's for single bites, not a dozen spiders going at it until they're dead or dry. Othala would be dead or at least in critical condition soon. That's where the Panacea situation ties into this."

Jennifer turned her laptop around. It displayed a map of downtown, with several buildings circled.

"A member of the Undersiders, Tattletale, contacted me earlier this morning. She identified Victor as the one behind Panacea's kidnapping, and offered to sell me the possible locations of the Empire hideout she was taken to."

"Because that didn't look like a scam at all," Cameron noted.

"She was quite happy to offer the information with the promise I'd pay her if any of the leads turned out to be true. I'd say it's nice to have such a reputation for trustworthiness that she agreed to the deal, but it was the typical Thinker posturing at work there. Regardless, one of the leads checked out. Panacea was there, as were the rest of the Empire capes. Kaiser, Krieg, Hookwolf, Alabaster, Fenja and Menja, Rune, Victor, Cricket, Stormtiger, Othala. Othala appeared to be comatose, Cricket and Stormtiger showed no signs of having been healed, Victor was partially healed but still had some injuries. Of course, with Panacea as a hostage, that can all change."

"What about Purity?" Taylor asked. She was wondering why the Empire's heaviest hitter was staying out of the fight. Jennifer shrugged.

"She didn't show up to work the day of the reveal. Hasn't been seen since - though there were rumors in Boston. She's unlikely to be a concern."

"Assuming you didn't jinx us with that," a dour feminine voice followed. It took a moment for Taylor to realize it was Shadowplay talking. _Wait, she's a woman?  
_  
Jennifer ignored the remark.

"The goal here is simple enough. Get Panacea out, and take down the Empire if we can. Here's the plan..."

~o~o~o~

 **March 30th, 2011 - Wednesday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
"They're all there," Webweaver announced. "Panacea's alone in a room on the second floor, the Empire capes are spread across the building."

"The injured?" Ymir asked. He was clad in plate armor and a cloak, all made of smooth ice. No horns on the helmet, despite the Nordic theme he seemed to be going for. _Then again_ , Taylor remembered, _actual Vikings didn't wear horned helmets to battle either._

Between Ymir, Ibis, Vortex, Webweaver and Taylor herself (Dynamic and Shadowplay were driver and shotgun, respectively), the back of the van was rather cramped. Vortex had spent most of the trip chatting, or rather flirting, with Ymir - apparently this wasn't the first time they worked together. The man seemed either oblivious or good at faking it, however.

"Othala seems to be comatose, but not dead. Partial healing by Panacea, it would seem?"

"Panacea can't do brains," Taylor interjected. "Maybe she couldn't wake Othala up even if she tried."

"Could be you're right," Webweaver nodded. "The other injured... Victor's up and about, Stormtiger and Cricket seem to be asleep and bandaged, so we can presume they're still injured." The gold-clad villainess pulled her phone out, typed out a message and sent it.

"Message out. Let's go, people. Your job is to clear out the rooms on the ground floor facing us - we don't want Panacea or Ibis getting shot on the way out."

They got out of the van and started heading towards the office building. Once they turned the corner, the civilians noticed them and started getting out of there, some reaching for their phones. Ibis started sprinting and took off the ground, heading towards a window on the second floor that was covered in insects. When he was halfway there, Taylor sensed the reaction from inside.

"They've seen us," she called out. Dynamic took _something_ out of his pocket that started blinking and beeping.

"Pick up the pace, people!" he commanded, and matched words with actions by starting to sprint ahead. As everyone else ran behind him, they stepped over more than a few bullets that had simply dropped out of the air after coming too close to him. Ymir was running next to him, conjuring a tall shield of solid ice in his left hand and a spear in his right.

When they were a dozen feet away from the window under Panacea's, the skinhead inside popped out of cover and unloaded with an assault rifle. Dynamic's device exploded, and Ymir jumped into the front to cover them instead. A half-second later, the skinhead was dragged out into the street by an invisible force, dropping his weapon. Shadowplay chuckled darkly, and Taylor noticed her shadow was of something with far too many tentacles, dark as night, and fell _towards_ the building, in an almost completely opposite direction from every other shadow around.

"I've got this window," Shadowplay spoke. Taylor couldn't shake the feeling she was trying too hard to sound badass.

"And I've got the healer," Ibis' voice came from above. "So once you guys give the go-ahead..."

 _"Still a few rooms on the ground floor to clear out",_ Webweaver spoke through the earbuds. _"I have the second floor covered."  
_  
The team split up, Taylor and Vortex heading left, Ymir and Dynamic heading right. Taylor stopped to the side of the next window, and gestured at Vortex. The woman created her field right in front of the window, causing Taylor to stumble - but she was expecting it. The two skinheads inside the room didn't, and Taylor broke through the window and grabbed them both, guided by her anger sense. She knocked their heads together, then climbed inside, kicked their weapons aside, then kicked each of them in the stomach to make sure they wouldn't hurry to get back up.

Taylor pressed her finger to the earbud and spoke. "My room's clear."

 _"Clear here,"_ Ymir spoke.

Fifteen seconds and a loud crash later, Dynamic's voice buzzed through the comms.

 _"Clear."_

 _"All clear. Go, Ibis!"_ Webweaver commanded, and Taylor felt one of the angry people on the upper floor moving out the window. That left a handful of people staying put in the upper floors, and seven heading down the stairs in the middle of the building, according to Taylor's anger sense. _These must be the Empire capes_ , Taylor decided.

 _"I'm keeping Kaiser busy upstairs,"_ Webweaver buzzed through the earphones. _"The rest are yours to deal with. Good luck, everyone."  
_  
That meant the one angry person still flailing around upstairs was Kaiser, then.

The remaining Empire capes reached the floor they were on, paused for a moment, and all headed in the same direction - towards the room Shadowplay was supposed to hold.

"They're coming your way, Shadow!" Taylor shouted, and turned towards the window to leave. Trying to flank three against seven didn't look like a decent idea. A few moments later, the angriest of the Empire capes dashed into Shadow's room, and a gunshot rang. Another spike of anger, and the cape was tossed back out, his anger dimming as he hit the wall with a slam Taylor could hear while Shadowplay _screamed_ in both anger and pain. Taylor was already out the window, and saw Shadowplay clumsily climb out the other window, while the Empire headed towards the building's main entrance instead. The woman ducked low to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

"Victor sh-shot me in the arm. The- the _fucker..._ I got distracted by- by one of Crusader's ghosts poking its head thr-through the wall and..." she gritted out through clenched teeth. Her costume's black color made blood difficult to see, but the bleeding was bad enough the blood _dripped_ , and the arm hung uselessly by her shoulder.

"Get out of here, then circle towards Web. See if she can help with first aid. Go!"

Shadowplay nodded and walked away, going to the side. Her shadow trailed behind her, spreading across the bottom of the wall to encircle that side of the building. Crusader's ghosts started spilling out the windows, and the Empire capes left the building to face them. Hookwolf was the first one out, followed by Alabaster, Krieg, Fenja, Menja and Rune. The twins started growing the second they had the room to do so. Taylor and Vortex backed away, but the ghosts started chasing them.

Then Shadowplay's shadow yanked Alabaster off his feet and tossed him at Taylor before dissipating. The man rolled across the pavement, his gun clattering away. He managed to stop himself a couple of feet away from Taylor, and she knocked him down and grabbed him the same way she did what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"OH FUCK YOU!" he shouted. Vortex laughed. Crusader's ghosts charged.


	28. Chapter 28

**March 30th, 2011 - Wednesday  
Afternoon  
**  
Vortex's field appeared in the middle of Crusader's ghosts, but their translucent forms seemed completely unfazed by it.

"Of course—" Vortex spoke, though Taylor had a hard time hearing her through Alabaster's swearing. A slam into the ground silenced him for a moment. "—them off me, okay?"

Taylor swung Alabaster at the charging ghosts, knocking the frontmost one into another. The rest started spreading out, and Taylor saw Vortex's field reappear not far from where Ymir was distracting Krieg, Fenja and Menja by throwing ice javelins at them. The field yanked Rune off her feet from where she was running her fingers over the side of a car.

 _"Dynamic, get Crusader,"_ Webweaver's voice came in through the earbuds. _"Upstairs, second door to your left."_

Then the ghosts charged them again, and Taylor was too busy to gawk.

Sidestep spear. Swing Alabaster. Ghost trying to sneak past her to get at Vortex, knock another ghost into him _._ None of the ghosts stood a chance against her, but they just kept coming. They could only back off so far before Vortex couldn't see the other fight and help out.

A particularly large group of projections surged at them, and one managed to slip past Taylor's guard and stab Vortex in the side. Before it could follow through, all the ghosts froze for a moment, then disappeared.

"Just a scratch," Vortex said, holding up her hand, keeping the other near the wound. "What happened to—"

The sound of crashing glass answered the question she didn't get to finish. Crusader came flying out of the building's second floor window, and Dynamic jumped down after him. The spear-wielding twin (was she Fenja or Menja? Taylor could never remember, and there were rumors the two would switch out from time to time) shouted furiously and charged in an attempt to skewer him, but the Tinker narrowly dodged the spear and ran for it, the giantess chasing after him. Taylor noticed Alabaster trying to kick her in the arm, and slammed him overhead into pavement. Then repeated it as soon as he came back to his senses.

While she was at it, Vortex recreated her field around Rune, lifting the girl into the air like she lifted herself back in the fight against Lung. The random chunk of concrete was caught in the field with her, and Rune's attempt to throw it out in an attempt to not get crushed against it didn't even come close to hitting anyone, though a couple of parked cars farther down the sidewalk got crushed. Taylor slammed Alabaster _again_.

Then the field disappeared.

Sword-and-Shield twin dropped the shield and grabbed Rune out of the air, but the distraction served its purpose. Ymir charged forward, right into Hookwolf's blades.

For a brief moment, the air was filled with the sounds of metal scaping against ice.

Then the sound turned into ice scraping across ice.

Then Hookwolf _shattered_.

Everyone stared at the scene mutely for several seconds. Then the twin with the sword dropped it, grabbed Crusader, and the four surviving Empire capes ran for it.

"They left me. The bastards left me! COME BACK HERE, COWARDS!"

Taylor looked down and realized she was still holding Alabaster by the leg - the pale man had been so stunned by his teammates' decision, he'd stopped resisting for a few moments, but he was getting back into it. She slammed him face-first into the pavement before his rant could really get going, and motioned for Vortex to pass her some zip-ties.

That was the scene Velocity ran into.

"Oh, hey there! The speedster's late to the fight. How typical," Vortex called out at him.

"What's going on over here?" the hero asked, keeping his distance.

 _ **"We are doing your job for you again,"**_ a swarm of insects buzzed nearby. **_"In this case, we're rescuing Panacea. She's unharmed - one of ours was injured in the fight, and we've convinced Panacea to help. She's nearly done."_** Taylor noticed the swarm was mostly flies and moths - all the combat-capable bugs had been sent into the building.

 _"Convinced?"_

 _ **"Not an euphemism. We even offered payment, though she refused. Ah, seems like they're done. Sending them your way."  
**_  
True to her word, Panacea and Shadowplay showed up less than a minute later. Panacea immediately went towards Velocity, shooting wary glances at the Elite capes along the way, as if she half-expected one of them to try something. _Can't really blame her,_ Taylor thought.

 ** _"Kaiser's trapped upstairs, for now. Airtight metal barriers. Cricket, Stormtiger, Victor and Othala are inside, disabled. We'll be taking our leave now - if you ever change your mind, Panacea, you know who to talk to."  
_**  
Taylor, Vortex, Shadowplay and Ymir took that as their cue to leave, rejoin Webweaver, and drive over to pick up Dynamic and Ibis, who'd managed to chase off their giantess. Their spirits were high on the circuitous trip back to base.

~o~o~o~

 **March 31st, 2011 - Thursday  
Early Evening  
**  
Taylor knocked on the door of Kurt and Lacey's house. She'd come alone, this time - it was closer to her apartment than Dad's house, and the neighbours were far less likely to recognize her anyway. Lacey answered the door.

"Hey, Taylor. Danny's upstairs - Kurt and I were just heading out to town."

"Wait, we were?" came Kurt's voice from the kitchen, and the man stuck his head out into the hallway. "Also, hi, Taylor!"

 _"Yes. We were"_ , Lacey glared in his direction, though Taylor didn't even need her power to tell there was no heat behind it.

Taylor slipped past the couple to head upstairs, looking for Dad. She found him in the guest bedroom, hunched over what looked like Union paperwork.

"Hey, Dad," she spoke. Dad jumped.

"Taylor! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in. Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Taylor answered. She briefly wondered how long it's been since she said that and _meant_ it. _Too long_ , she decided.

"You're not planning to pick a fight with _another_ gang then, I hope?"

"Dad! What gangs _are_ there left to get in trouble with, anyway?" _Well, besides the Undersiders and Coil's people? But Dad probably doesn't remember them._

"...Fair point. So the Empire really is gone, then?"

"Kaiser and four others escaped, but what can five capes do that the whole Empire couldn't? Still... it might be safer if you wait a few days before going home." That wasn't just for his safety - Taylor suspected he wouldn't want to see their home ransacked any more than she did, so it would be better if the people she'd hired through Jennifer to tidy the place up would get their work done. With the pay for the Empire job, she could certainly afford that. _Maybe I should see about sending a 'thank-you' to Kurt and Lacey for taking care of Dad, too...  
_  
"I suppose I see the reason. So, Taylor, what _do_ you intend to do now?"

"I don't really have a plan right now, I guess," Taylor admitted. "Study, train, the occassional road trip when we get hired? Unless another gang tries to settle in, we're just fine where we are. I know I am, at least."

They spoke about lighter topics until Kurt and Lacey got back. It didn't make up for barely speaking to each other for two years, nor did it make up for the chaos of the last few months...

...but when she finally said goodbye and headed home, Taylor was smiling. Things were looking up.


	29. Chapter 29

**March 16th, 2011 - Wednesday  
Late Afternoon  
**  
Dinah sat down on a bench in the park, in an isolated, but hardly concealed spot. She knew there were people watching - but...

 _Twelve point four two one four three percent chance they'll notice her._

Dinah breathed in relief. Her parents weren't far off, and the person she came to talk to was her best chance. Not a guarantee, by any means, yet the numbers on this path were still better than anything else she'd tried. Examining the bench, she saw a giant black spider with a golden hourglass on its back waiting patiently. There was what appeared to be a high-tech version of an earbud tied to its back. Dinah carefully picked it off the motionless spider, and put it in her ear, pretending to fix her hair.

 _"Hello, Miss Alcott. I must admit, this meeting is rather... unusual. What 'important information' did you claim you did not wish to pass on by phone?"  
_  
The voice in her ear was crystal clear, and she suspected the woman on the other end could hear her just as clearly. Dinah did not, however, want to be seen talking to herself - or worse, for someone to figure out she _wasn't_. A couple were chasing their child past her, so Dinah faked a yawn, and spoke with her hand over her mouth.

"Ninety-five point three two one four two percent chance at least one of your subordinates is injured in the next three weeks. Eighteen point seven nine nine four one percent chance at least one of them dies."

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. It was almost five seconds until the woman spoke.

 _"...You have my attention, young lady."  
_  
Dinah looked around. Nobody was paying attention to her.

"I see the future. Numbers, probabilities. Someone else knows - I'm not sure who, yet. If I go to the PRT, I get kidnapped. If I tell my parents, I get kidnapped. If I run, I get kidnapped. I need help, and you're my best chance. Literally," she finished. _The moment of truth..._

 _"Protection can be arranged - assuming, of course, your ability can be verified, and you're willing to use it to help us. How, exactly, does it work?"  
_  
"I can tell the chances of an event happening. Using the power too much causes headaches, though, so I can't answer too many. A handful a day, at most, and I need to keep some in case... in case someone comes after me."

 _"Thinker headaches. A common enough issue. I will have to get in touch with some people - if they agree, we can test your power out. You'll have my answer soon."  
_  
The earbud clicked, and the line went quiet. Dinah worked it out of her ear, put it in her pocket, watched the spider crawl away, and smiled.

 _Ninety-three point three two one four five percent chance she accepts._

~o~o~o~

 **April 3rd, 2011 - Sunday  
Afternoon  
**  
"Mom, we're home!" came Vicky's shout from outside.

She'd insisted on _personally_ carrying her sister to the hospital and back for her first visit since Wednesday. Or "never let her walk around alone again," to quote Vicky herself.

Vicky unlocked the door, and her daughters went inside. Carol set her coffee down on the table.

"How did it go today, girls?" she asked.

"It was fun," Vicky grinned. "Been a while since I had to chase off paparazzi."

"Lots of work, though. Now it's both gangs lashing out, and they're not sticking to shooting each other," Amy pointed out.

"Not for long, if you believe the PRT. Dean says they're already planning a celebration next Saturday - oh, and we're invited," the other girl added.

"I'll be sure to tell Sarah," Carol nodded.

"You could bring someone too, Ames, I know someone..." Vicky started, elbowing Amy in the side, but trailed off when something in Amy's pocket made a crunching sound. Carol looked at it carefully, and noticed a fairly _distinctive_ square shape.

"What is that, Amy?" she asked.

Red-faced, Amy pulled the thing out of her pocket. It was a pack of cigarettes.

Carol looked at the embarrassed girl whose eyes were fixed to the ground. For all that the girl had grown to be the spitting image of Marquis... she could not imagine the man looking like a six-year-old who got caught with her hand in a cookie jar. In fact, Amy looked like Sarah did when _that_ had happened.

"You got caught when you snuck off to smoke, didn't you?" Carol asked in the most serious tone she could muster. Given that she was a career lawyer, the effect was immediate.

"...Yes," Amy muttered.

"Well then," Carol smiled, "I suppose we shouldn't risk _that_ again. Do keep an eye on her in the future, okay Vicky?"

Vicky chuckled. "Sure thing, Mom. She won't sneak away from me!" she said, dragging Amy up the stairs.

Carol watched her daughters go upstairs, and got back to the by now cold cup of coffee on the table.

 _My daughters._ It was a strange thought... but perhaps she could get used to it.

~o~o~o~

 **April 12th, 2011 - Tuesday  
Late Afternoon**

Emily Piggot looked her office over one last time. It wasn't leaving the office itself that bothered her, really. It was just a room - she hadn't even decorated it much. She'd never seen the point to it. Even the position itself, she could live without. She'd only been put behind that desk to hush up the Ellisburg disaster.

 _How_ she lost her spot, however, was a different question. Recruiting a captured criminal - and really, there was no other word to describe Sophia Hess - was hardly unusual practice, and despite his at times _infuriating_ personality, Assault was quite tolerable by parahuman standards. Finding out the girl had caused a Trigger event with a _bodycount_ in her civilian identity, however, was completely outside the realm of problems the now-former Director expected.

Any explanations that nothing even remotely suggesting this was a possibility ever crossed her desk were promptly ignored, and the girl's disappearance did neither of them any favors. Hess hadn't been seen since the incident at the Hebert house - but everyone _knew_ what happened, just as they knew trying to make something of the Elite retaliating against someone creeping around a member's family was political suicide - it wouldn't just be the Elite themselves that would take offense. Or even only villains. The Empire outing, however, was the coup de grace - even though her decisions _during_ the crisis have been vindicated, with even the Hess family considered "regrettable, but acceptable collateral damage" (the actual words the Chief Director used were far more diplomatic, of course), after letting it come to that in the first place...

Locking the door behind her, however, she ran into her _main_ problem. Her replacement.

Piggot wouldn't have been that upset by Renick taking her job. The man didn't have the ambition to try, of course, but he was dedicated to the job itself rather than personal power - he'd have done well in her place. Being far more involved with the Wards, however, meant her Deputy took a lot more of the fallout from the Shadow Stalker fiasco.

Emily had no such compliments for the backstabbing snake standing in front of her, however.

"Ah, Emily. I'm glad to see you. I was just about to have a look at my new office - I see you still have the key..?" Calvert's smile was as innocent as two men in ski masks carrying a rolled up carpet into the Docks at night.

If Emily could see _how_ the man could've arranged the disastrous last few months, she'd have held him responsible for them by default. Not that it stopped him from taking advantage of the opening. She recalled the Chief Director's words on the subject.

 _"The public's out for blood. We need someone who can't be blamed for recent events in Brockton Bay, and we don't have many options for that."_

 _Translation,_ Emily thought bitterly, _nobody else wants anything to do with Brockton Bay.  
_  
"Yes, I was about to turn it in - it would be a shame if there was a problem with the paper trail, would it not?"

Calvert's lip twitched. There was no way he'd follow her to the office just to get the key immediately. Petty, perhaps, but he deserved it.

"Alright then. Good luck in Alaska, Emily," he said as she brushed past him.

 _Bastard._

~o~o~o~

 **April 15th, 2011 - Friday  
Evening  
**  
Jennifer was at home, flipping a closed envelope over and over in her hands. The TV was quiet - the new Director's press conference was due to begin soon, and while she could always review the recordings later, seeing it live wouldn't hurt. The letter was more of a concern, however.

 _"Keep this, just in case. Don't open it unless something happens to me."  
_  
The little Thinker was already developing the _infuriating_ cryptic manners of her kind, apparently. Jennifer briefly wondered whether Thinker powers made people behave like every mystic cliche ever, or if they just went to people prone to that behaviour to begin with.

 _If she's telling me not to open it early, does that mean it's likely to cause me to make a bad decision? Or a right decision she didn't want? Or perhaps she's trying to lure me into opening it? Or..._ Jenniffer pressed her palm against her forehead. _Goddamn Thinkers_.

"I'm playing mindgames against a _ten-year-old,_ " she complained aloud. Only some of her choice spiders and wasps were there to hear her, however, hidden under furniture in case of an emergency.

The worst part was, the girl's power was _good_. Every experiment her colleagues could come up with confirmed its accuracy for... several weeks, by now. The thankfully common precog drawback of not accounting for itself, at least, was confirmed. Little Alcott was shaping up to be worth far more than a gold mine, even if the philosophical questions her power's very existence raised about the nature of free will and the future were rather disturbing. Finally, Jen came to a decision. Whatever information was there, it was better to know early than risk not getting the chance to read it in time later. After all, in her line of work, Schrodinger's Cat is alive and wants you dead.

Tearing away the envelope revealed a folded piece of paper... with the words "Not now, when I'm gone!" written across it.

Jennifer unfolded and read it anyway.

The TV's sounds changed, and Calvert's speech began. Jennifer watched the man closely, with a keen sense of familiarity. Where had she..?

Halfway through the speech, when Calvert was talking about "ensuring the tragic mistakes of previous leadership are not repeated," it clicked.

 _Absurdly tall skeleton of a man. Familiar voice. High-level inside knowledge of the PRT_.

Jennifer grabbed a glass from the table and raised it. It was empty, but that wasn't the point.

"Well played, you snake," she said.

Setting the glass down, she started thinking. _Coil running the PRT. Endbringer attack due in the coming weeks. The Teeth may or may not try to go back to their home.  
_  
There was a lot of work to do in the future. There always was.

But it was in the future.

~o~o~o~

 **April 16th, 2011 - Saturday  
Evening**

In his office at the PRT HQ, Director Calvert was finishing up the last of the day's paperwork after a relatively quiet day at work.

In an underground base hidden beneath an Endbringer shelter, Coil dismissed his mercenaries and headed towards Pitter's office.

The unassuming man opened the door on the first knock, and the brown-haired girl behind him glared. She did not appear to be injured. _Good._

"Hello, Miss Alcott. I am..."

"Coil. I know," the girl interrupted him.

"Then you know why you're here."

"You want the numbers. Here's some. Eighty-two point zero six four one percent chance you'll die in the next week if you don't release me. Ninety-one point seven three one four percent chance you'll die in the next month. Happy now?"

" _No._ Who's coming to kill me?"

"The Elite. I made a deal. You know what you're willing to do to me for my power."

The girl leaned forward. She was actually _grinning_.

"What do you think _they'd_ do to _you_ for it? And they already know you're responsible. As a matter of fact, they might think it's you even if it actually wasn't."

Coil considered the information. Whatever the Elite were going to do, the numbers implied it wouldn't happen fast - and any potential information he could gain to defend himself with came with the risk of staying hours, or worse, _days_ , with death breathing down his neck in one of his timelines. He had the PRT. He had every parahuman criminal not affiliated with the Elite. He had half the city's politicians in his pocket, and was well on the way of subverting every remaining one. This was more than enough to begin extending his grasp to other cities - Accord had mentioned a skilled team of mercenaries in Boston...

In an underground base hidden beneath an Endbringer shelter, Coil reached for the gun by his side.

In his office at the PRT HQ, Director Calvert reached for the liquor under his table.

He cracked the bottle open, and drank.

He put it back down and left his office, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
